I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me.

I am aware of the damp souls of housemaids Sprouting despondently at area gates.

There's no vocabulary For love within a family, love that's lived in But not looked at, love within the light of which All else is seen, the love within which All other love finds speech. This love is silent.

Sand. Everywhere. In the bed, in the shower, all over the floor. Grrrrr.

When forced to work within a strict framework, the imagination is taxed to its utmost and will produce its richest ideas. Given total freedom, the work is likely to sprawl.

One starts an action simply because one must do something.

Those who arrive at the end of the journey are not those who began.