One could go on revising a prose page forever whereas there is a point in a poem when one knows it is done forever.

Do not deprive me of my age. I have earned it.

One could go on revising a prose page forever whereas there is a point in a poem when one knows it is done forever.

I think that passion if really intense is always destructive if not to the two involved, always to other people.

A man with a talent does what is expected of him, makes his way, constructs, is an engineer, a composer, a builder of bridges. It's the natural order of things that he construct objects outside himself and his family. The woman who does so is aberrant. We have to expiate for this cursed talent someone handed out to us, by mistake, in the black mystery of genetics.

Innocence is not pure so much as pleased, Always expectant, bright-eyed, self-enclosed

Self-respect is nothing to hide behind. When you need it most it isn't there.