The main thing is to write for the joy of it. Cultivate a work-lust that imagines its haven like your hands at night dreaming the sun in the sunspot of a breast. You are fasted now, light-headed, dangerous. Take off from here.
Seamus HeaneyIn off the moors, down through the mist beams, god-cursed Grendel came greedily loping.
Seamus Heaney