The Whole Object Of Education Is...to Develop

I Wanted To Run Away From Everything But I Wanted To Run Towards Something Too.

It Was A Cold Day But The Sun Was Out And The Trees Were Like Great Bonfires Against Gray Distant Fields And Hills.

I Am Pregnant With Song. My Body Aches But Do Not Betray Me. I Will Sing Songs And Hide Them Away. I Will Tear Them Into Bits And Throw Them In The Street. The Streets Of My City Are Full Of Dark Holes. I Will Hide My Songs In The Holes Of The Streets.

If I Can Write Everything Out Plainly, Perhaps I Will Myself Understand Better What Has Happened.

Realism, In So Far As The Word Means Reality To Life, Is Always Bad Art.