It troubles him to consider the powerful currents and fine-tuning that alter fate, the close and distant influences, the accidents of character and circumstance.
We go on our hands and knees and crawl our way towards the truth
A person is, among all else, a material thing, easily torn and not easily mended.
And feeling clever, I've always thought, is just a sigh away from being cheerful.
I believe the novella is the perfect form of prose fiction.
But to do its noticing and judging, poetry balances itself on the pinprick of the moment. Slowing down, stopping yourself completely, to read and understand a poem is like trying to acquire an old-fashioned skill.