I deserve that, don't I, some sort of blazing love that I can live with.

We know a thing by its opposite corollary; hot by having experienced cold; good by having decided what is bad; love by hate.

I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.

There I went again, building up a glamorous picture of a man who would love me passionately the minute he met me, and all out of a few prosy nothings.

The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it.

I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me.

I'm about fifty years behind as far as my preferences go and I must say that the poets who excite me most are the Americans. There are very few contemporary English poets that I admire.