My birthday began with the water - Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name.

Do not go gently into that good night but rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I think, that if I touched the earth, It would crumble; It is so sad and beautiful, So tremulously like a dream.

One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve nights when I was six.

Rhianon, he said, hold my hand, Rhianon. She did not hear him, but stood over his bed and fixed him with an unbroken sorrow. Hold my hand, he said, and then: why are your putting the sheet over my face?

Poetry is not the most important thing in life... I'd much rather lie in a hot bath reading Agatha Christie and sucking sweets.

My birthday began with the water - Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name.