writing is the profound pleasure and being read the superficial.
She dares me to pour myself out like a living waterfall. She dares me to enter the soul that is more than my own; she extinguishes fear in mere seconds. She lets light come through.
But I beneath a rougher sea, And whelmed in deeper gulfs than he.
literature is the record of our discontent.
Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night.
By the truth we are undone. Life is a dream. 'Tis the waking that kills us. He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.