Now I Become Myself. It’s Taken Time,

Real Joy Is Becoming Exceedingly Rare Among Artists Of Any Kind. And I Have An Idea That Those Who Can And Do Communicate It Are Always People Who Have Had A Hard Time. Then The Joy Has No Smugness Or Self-righteousness In It, Is Inclusive Not Exclusive, And Comes Close To Prayer.

There Is A Wilder Solitude In Winter When Every Sense Is Pricked Alive And Keen.

Fighting Dragons Is My Holy Joy.

When You Change The Way You Look At A Thing, The Thing Itself Changes...by Mastering Feelings, She Had Come To Understand The Meaning Of Discipline And Its Reward: Freedom And Power.

Try Making A Poem As If It Were A Table, Clear And Solid, Standing There Outside You.