Even goats may have starlight in their eyes.

Write verse, not poetry. The public wants verse. If you have a talent for poetry, then don't by any means mother it, but try your hand at verse.

Our breath is brief, and being so Let's make our heaven here below, And lavish kindness as we go.

Some praise the Lord for Light, The living spark; I thank God for the Night The healing dark.

There's a race of men that don't fit in, A race that can't sit still; So they break the hearts of kith and kin, And they roam the world at will. They range the field and rove the flood, And they climb the mountain's crest; Their's is the curse of the gypsy blood, And they don't know how to rest.

I have an intense dislike for artificial society. In France, one could lead a free life - to do what one wanted to do without interference or criticism from one's neighbors.

Avoid extremes: be moderate In saving and in spending; An equable and easy gait Will win an easy ending.