No Day Is Safe From News Of

The Artist's Life Nourishes Itself On The Particular, The Concrete.

I Would Say Everything Should Be Able To Come Into A Poem, But I Can't Put Toothbrushes Into A Poem, I Really Can't!

You Ask Me Why I Spend My Life Writing? Do I Find Entertainment? Is It Worthwhile? Above All, Does It Pay? If Not, Then, Is There A Reason?... I Write Only Because There Is A Voice Within Me. That Will Not Be Still.

I Thought The Most Beautiful Thing In The World Must Be Shadow.

I Dream Too Much, Work Too Little.