One of the good elements of old age is that we no longer have to prove anything, to ourselves or to anyone else. We are what we are.
The minute one utters a certainty, the opposite comes to mind.
Light is snow sifted / To an abstraction.
There is a proper balance between not asking enough of oneself and asking or expecting too much.
I see a certain order in the universe and math is one way of making it visible.
a poet never feels useful.