What do you get out of hating people, out of having this bitterness in your heart always?

Many have changed so much that they have lost the magic of the dream that carried them on their own bootstraps.

With Shakespeare and poetry, a new world was born. New dreams, new desires, a self consciousness was born. I desired to know to know myself in terms of the new standards set by these books.

To get from people you had to give a piece of yourself, a real piece that mattered. Just being nice was not enough.

You don't have to be a good person to be a good writer--history shows it's better if you're not--but you have to understand your badness.

The words dripped on my consciousness, sank into my being, and carried me away to the magic long ago of once upon a time.

What do you get out of hating people, out of having this bitterness in your heart always?