I Didn't Want To Be Like Yeats;

Ever To Confess You're Bored Means You Have No Inner Resources.

So If I Were Talking To A Young Writer, I Would Recommend The Cultivation Of Extreme Indifference To Both Praise And Blame Because Praise Will Lead You To Vanity, And Blame Will Lead You To Self-pity, And Both Are Bad For Writers.

Something Has Been Said For Sobriety But Very Little.

I Cry. Evil Dissolves, & Love, Like Foam; That Love. Prattle Of Children Powers Me Home, My Heart Claps Like The Swan's Under A Frenzy Of Who Love Me & Who Shine.

Life, Friends, Is Boring. We Must Not Say So.