I Dance/for The Joy Of Surviving, At

What Makes The Engine Go? Desire, Desire, Desire.

...few Young Poets [are] Testing Their Poems Against The Ear. They're Writing For The Page, And The Page, Let Me Tell You, Is A Cold Bed.

I Refuse To Turn To Theology To Justify The Life Or Redeem It. There Is A Question Always Of The Connection To The Eternal. I Say To Myself Above All, Keep Alive Your Conviction That There Are Sacred Elements In The Life In The Practice Of The Life That Must Be Respected. But The Conviction In The Existence Of The Sacred Does Not Necessarily Imply That You Need To Believe In A Creator, Because We Are The Ones That Made The Sacred.

It Is My Heart That's Late, It Is My Song That's Flown.

A Longing For The Dance Stirs In The Buried Life.