Man seeks his own good at the whole world's cost.

Out of your whole life give but a moment! All of your life that has gone before, All to come after it, -so you ignore, So you make perfect the present, condense, In a rapture of rage, for perfection's endowment, Thought and feeling and soul and sense.

But how carve way i' the life that lies before, If bent on groaning ever for the past?

Truth is within ourselves.

Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.

It is the glory and good of Art, That Art remains the one way possible Of speaking truth, to mouths like mine at least.

What I aspired to be and was not, comforts me.