And so we turn the page over. To think of starting. This is all there is.

Part of the strength of Pollock and Rothko's art, in fact, is this doubt as to whether art may be there at all.

Silly girls your heads full of boys

If you need a certain vitality you can only supply it yourself, or there comes a point, anyway, when no one's actions but your own seem dramatically convincing and justifiable in the plot that the number of your days concocts.

Much that is beautiful must be discarded So that we may resemble a taller Impression of ourselves.

The first year was like icing. Then the cake started to show through.

I like poems you can tack all over with a hammer and there are no hollow places.