I Think The Virtue I Prize Above

I Do Not Want To Be A Relative And Passive Being, Anywhere. I Want To Live And Love And Write.

Autobiographies Tell More Lies Than All But The Most Self-indulgent Fiction.

Mine The Long Night The Secret Place Where Lovers Meet In Long Embrace In Purple Dark In Silvered Kiss Forget The World And Grasp Your Bliss

In My Mind's Eye Shakespeare Is A Huge, Hot Sea-beast, With Fire In His Veins And Ice On His Claws And Inscrutable Eyes, Who Looks Like An Inchoate Hump Under The Encrustations Of Live Barnacle-commentaries, Limpets And Trailing Weeds.

Think Of This - That The Writer Wrote Alone, And The Reader Read Alone, And They Were Alone With Each Other.