Might I Be The One I Am

Indiscretion Has Always Seemed To Me To Be One Of The Privileges Of Tact.

Would That Well-thinking People Should Be Replaced By Thinking Ones.

At First, When An Idea, A Poem, Or The Desire To Write Takes Hold Of You, Work Is A Pleasure, A Delight, And Your Enthusiasm Knows No Bounds. But Later On You Work With Difficulty, Doggedly, Desperately. For Once You Have Committed Yourself To A Particular Work, Inspiration Changes Its Form And Becomes An Obsession, Like A Love-affair… Which Haunts You Night And Day! Once At Grips With A Work, We Must Master It Completely Before We Can Recover Our Idleness.

There Are. Intangible Realities Which Float Near Us, Formless And Without Words; Realities Which No One Has Thought Out, And Which Are Excluded For Lack Of Interpreters.

Albinos Aren't Reproached For Having Pink Eyes And Whitish Hair, Why Should They Hold It Again Me For Being A Lesbian? It's A Question Of Nature: My Queerness Isn't A Vice, Isn't 'deliberate,' And Harms No One.