The Fog Comes On Little

Hope Is An Echo, Hope Ties Itself Yonder, Yonder.

The More Rhymethere Isin Poetry The More Dangerof Its Tricking The Writer Into Something Other Than The Urge In The Beginning.

My First Stringed Instrument Was A Cigar Box Banjo Where I Cut And Turned The Pegs And Strung The Wires Myself.

I Have Often Wondered What It Is An Old Building Can Do To You When You Happen To Know A Little About Things That Went On Long Ago In That Building.

In Democracy Both A Deep Reverence And A Sense Of The Comic Are Requisite.