A book is never a masterpiece it becomes one. Genius is the talent of a dead man.

They love the sea, / Men who ride on it / And know they will die / Under the salt of it

Two bubbles found they had rainbows on their curves. they flickered out saying: “it was worth being a bubble, just to have held that rainbow thirty seconds.

I never made a mistake in grammar but once in my life and as soon as I done it I seen it.

Hope is a tattered flag and a dream of time / Hope is a heartspun word, the rainbow, the shadblow in white.

Some of the ears are bursting. / A white juice works inside. / Cornsilk creeps in the end and dangles in the wind. / Always--I never knew it any other way-- / The wind and the corn talk things over together. / And the rain and the corn and the sun and the corn / Talk things over together.

The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.

There was a high majestic fooling / Day before yesterday in the yellow corn.

A baby is God's opinion that life should go on. Never will a time come when the most marvelous recent invention is as marvelous as a newborn baby.

Dreams in the dusk, only dreams closing the day and with the day’s close going back to the gray things, the dark things, the far, deep things of dreamland.