We don't ask a flower any special reason for its existence. We just look at it and are able to accept it as being something different from ourselves.

What shall I give my children? who are poor, / Who are adjudged the leastwise of the land...

... sometimes you have to deal / Devilishly with drowning men in order to swim them to shore.

She was learning to love moments. To love moments for themselves.

And if sun comes / How shall we greet him? / Shall we not dread him, / Shall we not fear him / After so lengthy a / Session with shade?

beware the easy griefs / that fool and fuel nothing.

I am a writer perhaps because I am not a talker.