But The More Poetry One Reads The

I Want, By Understanding Myself, To Understand Others.

Letters Are The Real Curse Of My Existence. I Hate To Write Them: I Have To. If I Don't, There They Are - The Great Guilty Gates Barring My Way.

Everything In Life That We Really Accept Undergoes A Change.

I Don't Believe Other People Are Ever As Foolishly Excited As I Am While I'm Working. How Could They Be? Writers Would Have To Live In Trees.

Why! Why! Why Is The Middle-class So Stodgy - So Utterly Without A Sense Of Humor?