Wake The Happy Words.

So Much Of Adolescence Is An Ill-defined Dying, An Intolerable Waiting, A Longing For Another Place And Time, Another Condition.

In A Dark Time, The Eye Begins To See / I Meet My Shadow In The Deepening Shade...dark, Dark My Light, And Darker My Desire.

Over Every Mountain There Is A Path, Although It May Not Be Seen From The Valley.

I Can't Go On Flying Apart Just For Those Who Want The Benefit Of A Few Verbal Kicks. My God, Do You Know What Poems Like That Cost? They're Not Written Vicariously: They Come Out Of Actual Suffering, Real Madness.

I Came Where The River Ran Over Stones; My Ears Knew An Early Joy. And All The Waters Of All The Streams Sang In My Veins That Summer Day.