If we have not struggled/as hard as we can/at our strongest/how will we sense/the shape of our losses/or know what sustains/us longest or name/what change costs us,/saying how strange/it is that one sector/of the self can step in/for another in trouble,/how loss activates/a latent double, how/we can feed/as upon nectar/upon need?

It's important to have your private enjoyments because sometimes that's all we have.

What keeps me writing is that I can only know through writing. My major sense organ is apparently a pencil.

The day misspent, the love misplaced, has inside it the seed of redemption. Nothing is exempt from resurrection.

It isn't ever delicate to live.

Action creates/a taste/for itself.

I have tried to live very quietly, so I could be happy.