True Feeling Justifies Whatever It May Cost.

Pain Can Make A Whole Winter Bright, Like Fever, Force Us To Live Deep And Hard.

It Is Harder For Women, Perhaps To Be 'one-pointed,' Much Harder For Them To Clear Space Around Whatever It Is They Want To Do Beyond Household Chores And Family Life. Their Lives Are Fragmented... The Cry Not So Much For A 'a Room Of One's Own' As Time Of One's Own. Conflict Become Acute, Whatever It May Be About, When There Is No Margin Left On Any Day In Which To Try At Least To Resolve It.

Your Poems Will Happen When No One Is There.

A Poet Never Feels Useful.

For To Be Desperate Is To Discover Strength. / We Die Of Comfort And By Conflict Live.