For Me The Initial Delight

If The Writer Does Not Cry, The Reader Does Not Cry.

The First Thing I Do In The Morning Is To Make My Bed And While I Am Making Up My Bed I Am Making Up My Mind As To What Kind Of A Day I Am Going To Have.

Tree At My Window, Window Tree, My Sash Is Lowered When Night Comes On; But Let There Never Be Curtain Drawn Between You And Me.

He Thought That I Was After Him For A Feather--- The White One In His Tail: Like One Who Takes Everything Said As Personal To Himself.

I Have Miles To Go Before I Sleep.