Maybe we can use a metaphor for it, out of dance. I think for many years I was aware of the need, in dance and in life, to breathe deeply and to take in more air than we usually take in.

The older I get, the more I feel.

She'd crack A joke sharp as a tin lid Hot from the teeth of the can-opener, And cackle her crack-corn laugh.

There is something in me maybe someday to be written; now it is folded, and folded, and folded, like a note in school.

The amount of horror one used to hear about in one village could be quite extreme. But one might not have heard about all the other villages' horrors at the same time.

Who wants to put together something that will bear some relationship to the vision or memory or experience or story or idea or dream or whatever.

I did not know him, I knew my idea of him.