A Longing For The Dance Stirs In

The Heart Breaks And Breaks And Lives By Breaking It Is Necessary To Go Through Dark And Deeper Dark And Not To Turn

One Critic Wrote . . . That My Poems Sounded As Though They Had Been Translated From The Hungarian. I Don't Know Why, But Somehow That Made Me Feel Quite Lighthearted.

The Unconscious Creates, The Ego Edits.

I Want To Write Poems That Are Natural, Luminous, Deep, Spare. I Dream Of An Art So Transparent That You Can Look Through And See The World.

I Can Hardly Wait For Tomorrow, It Means A New Life For Me Each And Every Day.