Honesty Is The Best Policy ; A

A Poet Is Wounded Into Speech, And He Examines These Wounds, Meticulously, To Discover How To Heal Them. The Bad Poet Harangues At The Pain And Yowls At The Weapons That Lacerate Him; The Great Poet Explores The Inflamed Lips Of Ruined Flesh With Ice-caked Fingers, Glittering And Precise; But Ultimately His Poem Is The Echoing, Dual Voice Reporting The Damages.

I Took My Writing Seriously, And It Seemed To Pay Off.

The Idea That Certain Things In Life - And In The Universe - Don't Yield Up Their Secrets Is Something That Requires A Slightly More Mature Reader To Accept.

Spending Practically Every Minute Of Your Day On Pure Survival Is An Absolutely Boring Life.

Babes, I Am So Bored Here That I Don't Think, Since I've Come, I've Ever Been More Than Three Minutes Away From Some Really Astonishing Act Of Violence.