Though I may deny poets their monopoly on inspiration, I still place them in a select group of Fortune's darlings.

I'd have to be really quick to describe clouds - a split second's enough for them to start being something else.

They say the first sentence in any speech is always the hardest. Well, that one's behind me, anyway.

God was finally going to believe in a man both good and strong, but good and strong are still two different men.

There's simply too much fuss about myself.

Nothing can ever happen twice. In consequence, the sorry fact is that we arrive here improvised and leave without the chance to practice.

The joy of writing. The power of preserving. Revenge of a mortal hand.