Yet no one hears his own remarks as prose.
Adjectives are the potbelly of poetry.
August for the people and their favourite islands. Daily the steamers sidle up to meet The effusive welcome of the pier.
We do not change as we grow up. The difference between the child and the adult is that the former doesn't know who he is and the latter does.
Doom is dark and deeper than any sea-dingle.
Say this city has ten million souls, Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes: Yet thereโs no place for us, my dear, yet thereโs no place for us.