Life, alas, is very drear. Up with the glass! Down with the beer!

Why has our poetry eschewed The rapture and response of food? What hymns are sung and praises said For the home made miracle of bread?

Friendship is like love at its best; not blind but sympathetically all-seeing; a support which does not wait for understanding; an act of faith which does not need, but always has, reason.

And fathers are a blessing, too, they give the place a tone; In fact each child should try and have some parents of its own.

Laughter shall drown the raucous shout;And, though these shelt'ring walls are thin,May they be strong to keep hate outAnd hold love in.

Poetry is the power of defining the indefinable in terms of the unforgettable.

Write out of love, write out of instinct, write out of reason. But always for money.

Nothing but blackness above And nothing that moves but the cars... God, if you wish for our love, Fling us a handful of stars!

Every poet knows the pun is Pierian, that it springs from the same soil as the Muse?a matching and shifting of vowels and consonants, an adroit assonance sometimes derided as jackassonance.

God, though this life is but a wraith, Although we know not what we use, Although we grope with little faith, Give me the heart to fight and lose.