In The Pit Of Red You Hid

I Shall Also Take You Forth And Carve Our Names Together In A Yew Tree, Haloed With Stars.

I Sit In The Top Of The Wood, My Eyes Closed. Inaction, No Falsifying Dream Between My Hooked Head And Hooked Feet: Or In Sleep Rehearse Perfect Kills And Eat.

You Are Who You Choose To Be.

What’s Writing Really About? It’s About Trying To Take Fuller Possession Of The Reality Of Your Life.

...imagine What You Are Writing About. See It And Live It. Do Not Think It Up Laboriously, As If You Were Working Out Mental Arithmetic. Just Look At It, Touch It, Smell It, Listen To It, Turn Yourself Into It. When You Do This, The Words Look After Themselves, Like Magic.