In fact, in lyric poetry, truthfulness becomes recognizable as a ring of truth within the medium itself.

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.

I've always associated the moment of writing with a moment of lift, of joy, of unexpected reward.

Now it’s high watermark and floodtide in the heart and time to go. The sea-nymphs in the spray will be the chorus now. What’s left to say? Suspect too much sweet-talk but never close your mind. It was a fortunate wind that blew me here. I leave half-ready to believe that a crippled trust might walk and the half-true rhyme is love.

I might enjoy being an albatross, being able to glide for days and daydream for hundreds of miles along the thermals. And then being able to hang like an affliction round some people's necks.

Anyone with gumption and a sharp mind will take the measure of two things: what's said and what's done.

You had to come back to learn how to lose yourself, to be pilot and stray-witch, Hansel and Gretel in one.