Death, I Need My Little Addiction To

Today Life Opened Inside Me Like An Egg.

When I'm Writing, I Know I'm Doing The Thing I Was Born To Do.

I Like You; Your Eyes Are Full Of Language." [letter To Anne Clarke, July 3, 1964.]

In A Letter (no Matter How Quickly It Is Written Or Honestly Or Freely Or Lovingly) It Is More Possible To Be Loving And Lovable, More Possible To Reach Out And To Take In ... I Feel I Have Somehow Deceived You Into Thinking This Is Really A Human Relationship. It Is A Letter Relationship Between Humans.

The Tongue, The Chinese Say, Is Like A Sharp Knife: It Kills Without Drawing Blood.