The Entire Being Of A Woman Is

Within Our Whole Universe The Story Only Has The Authority To Answer That Cry Of Heart Of Its Characters, That One Cry Of Heart Of Each Of Them: "who Am I?"

A Poet's Mission Is To Make Others Confound Fiction And Reality In Order To Render Them, For An Hour, Mysteriously Happy.

Some Travelers Are Drawn Forward By A Goal Lying Before Them In The Way Iron Is Drawn To The Magnet. Others Are Driven On By A Force Lying Behind Them. In Such A Way The Bowstring Makes The Arrow Fly.

In Africa, When You Pick Up A Book Worth Reading, Out Of The Deadly Consignments Which Good Ships Are Always Being Made To Carry Out All The Way From Europe, You Read It As An Author Would Like His Book To Be Read, Praying To God That He May Have It In Him To Go On As Beautifully As He Has Begun. Your Mind Runs, Transported, Upon A Fresh Deep Green Track.

Here I Am, Where I Am Supposed To Be.