Spring, / you are a pinking shears: you cut / fresh edges on the world.
Driving me away is easier than saying goodbye.
When I sit down at my writing desk, time seems to vanish. I think it's a wonderful way to spend one's life.
Since flesh can't stay, we pass the words along.
Once I worshipped Keats for dying young. Now I think it's braver to die old.
I see that the greatest thing about getting older is how your judgment changes and how you come to understand the cycles of life. And you keep having these amazing flashes of understanding.