You Don't Become A Saint

It Takes Great Labor To Uncover The Convincing Simple Speech Of The Heart. Poetic Candor Comes With Hard Labor, So Even Does Impetuosity And Impudence.

You Learn Nothing If You Carry With You A Journalistic System Of Values, Which Is Invented To Save Reporters From Experience.

Love Is The Garment Of Knowledge.

There Have Always Been Those Who, Though They See Tragedy As The Outcome Of Freedom, Will Nevertheless Judge That Tragedy Is Not Too High A Price To Pay.

Now I Know Surely And Forever, However Much I Have Blotted Our Waking Love, Its Memory Is Still There. And I Know The Web, The Net, The Blind And Crippled Bird. For Then, For One Brief Instant It Was Not Blind, Nor Trapped, Not Crippled. For One Heart Beat The Heart Was Free And Moved Itself. O Love, I Who Am Lost And Damned With Words, Whose Words Are A Business And An Art, I Have No Words. These Words, This Poem, This Is All Confusion And Ignorance. But I Know That Coached By Your Sweet Heart, My Heart Beat One Free Beat And Sent Through All My Flesh The Blood Of Truth.