What have I done, dear God, to deserve this perpetual feeling that I'm almost ready to begin something really new?
What falls away is always. And is near.
Love begets love. This torment is my joy.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
In our age, if a boy or girl is untalented, the odds are in favor of their thinking they want to write.
Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light.