Every Night and every Morn Some to Misery are born. Every Morn and every Night Some are born to Sweet Delight, Some are born to Endless Night. – William Blake
I ran up the door, opened the stairs, said my pajamas and put on my prayers — turned off my bed, tumbled into my light, and all because he kissed me good-night! – Author Unknown
Constantly risking absurdity and death whenever he performs above the heads of his audience, the poet, like an acrobat, climbs on rhyme to a high wire of his own making. – Lawrence Ferlinghetti
