Where The Myth Fails, Human Love Begins.

"we See The World As 'we' Are, Not As 'it' Is; Because It Is The "i" Behind The 'eye' That Does The Seeing."

We Three Belong To The Middle Ages. We Have This Need Of Heroism, And There Is No Place For Such Feelings In Modern Life. That Is Our Tragedy. Once I Wanted To Be A Saint. It Seemed The Only Absolute Act Left To Do, For What Is Most Powerful In Me Is The Craving For Purity, Greatness.

When I Don't Write, I Feel My World Shrink. I Lose My Fire, My Color.

The Richest Source Of Creation Is Feeling, Followed By A Vision Of Its Meaning.

Solitude May Rust Your Words.