People Have Thoughts They’d Sooner

Who Can Ever Say The Perfect Thing To The Poet About His Poetry?

I Despised Their Antics Because I Took Life Seriously And Had A Much More Lofty And Tender Notion Of Romance. But I Would Have Liked To Get Their Attention Just The Same.

Writing Is Hard, But The More You Write, And Enjoy What You Write, The Better It Gets.

Children Of Course Are Monstrously Conventional, Repelled At Once By Whatever Is Off-center, Out Of Whack, Unmanageable. And Being An Only Child I Had Been Coddled A Good Deal (also Scolded). I Was Awkward, Precocious, Timid, Full Of My Private Rituals And Aversions.

Pots Can Show Malice, The Patterns Of Linoleum Can Leer Up At You, Treachery Is The Other Side Of Dailiness.