Unreal friendship may turn to real But real friendship, once ended, cannot be mended
Because I do not hope to turn again / Because I do not hope / Because I do not hope to turn.
Success is relative. It is what we can make of the mess we have made of things.
This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper.
I am aware of the damp souls of housemaids/Sprouting despondently at area gates.
Honest criticism and sensible appreciation are directed not upon the poet but upon the poetry.
In the vain laughter of folly, wisdom hears half its applause.
Birth, copulation and death. That’s all the facts when you come to the brass tacks.
Anxiety is the handmaiden of creativity
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