The Hands Are The Heart's Messengers.

Writing Is An Undertaking For The Modest.

A Man Is A Writer If All His Words Are Strung In Definite Sentence Sounds.

Conscious Writing Can Be The Death Of Poetry.

... Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads In Them ... ... If You Demand On One Hand, The Raw Material Of Poetry In All Its Rawness And That Which Is On The Other Hand Genuine, Then You Are Interested In Poetry.

The Enslaver Is Enslaved, The Hater, Harmed.