Not A Softness Anywhere About Me, Only

To-night When The Full-bellied Moon Swallows The Stars. Grant That I Know.

All Recurring Joy Is Pain Refined.

Don’t Ask A Writer What He’s Working On. It’s Like Asking Someone With Cancer On The Progress Of His Disease.

Underneath My Stiffened Gown Is The Softness Of A Woman Bathing In A Marble Basin

Time! Joyless Emblem Of The Greed Of Millions, Robber Of The Best Which Earth Can Give.