And An Equation Is The

You Have To Learn A Few Things, Which You Do Along The Way, But Basically, Poetry Is A Matter Of The Ear. Iambic Pentameters Or What Constitutes A Stanza Comes Naturally - Your Ears Will Know.

Every Object Strives For Its Proper Place. A Book Seeks To Be Near Its Truest Admirer. Just As This Helpless Moth Seeks To Be Near The Candle That Infatuates Him.

God Save Us From People Who Mean Well.

I Need My Natural Laziness To Be Counteracted By Obsession In Order To Do Anything.

Behind Every Door On Every Ordinary Street, In Every Hut In Every Ordinary Village In This Middling Planet Of A Trivial Star, Such Riches Are To Be Found. The Strange Journeys We Undertake On Our Earthly Pilgrimage, The Joy And Suffering We Taste Or Confer, The Chance Events That Leave Us Together Or Apart, What A Complex Trace They Leave: So Personal As To Be Almost Incommunicable, So Fugitive As To Be Almost Irrecoverable.