Thousands have lived without love, not one without water.

Between friends differences in taste or opinion are irritating in direct proportion to their triviality.

Those who hate to go to bed fear death; those who hate to get up fear life.

Time will say nothing but I told you so, Time only knows the price we have to pay; If I could tell you I would let you know.

Time will say nothing but I told you so.

A poet's hope: to be, like some valley cheese, local, but prized elsewhere.

One demands two things of a poem. Firstly, it must be a well-made verbal object that does honor to the language in which it is written. Secondly, it must say something significant about a reality common to us all, but perceived from a unique perspective. What the poet says has never been said before, but, once he has said it, his readers recognize its validity for themselves.