That Is Our ‘pointed Task. Love &

Offering Dragons Quarter Is No Good, They Regrow All Their Parts And Come On Again. They Have To Be Killed.

I Cry. Evil Dissolves, & Love, Like Foam; That Love. Prattle Of Children Powers Me Home, My Heart Claps Like The Swan's Under A Frenzy Of Who Love Me & Who Shine.

Literature Bores Me, Especially Great Literature

Ever To Confess You're Bored Means You Have No Inner Resources.

One Must Be Ruthless With One's Own Writing Or Someone Else Will Be.