What We Suffer, What We Endure, What

I'll Lie Here And Learn How, Over Their Ground, Trees Make A Long Shadow And A Light Sound.

...in A Time Lacking In Truth And Certainty And Filled With Anguish And Despair, No Woman Should Be Shamefaced In Attempting To Give Back To The World, Through Her Work, A Portion Of Its Lost Heart.

Your Work Is Carved Out Of Agony As A Statue Is Carved Out Of Marble.

But It's Silly To Suggest The Writing Of Poetry Is Something Ethereal, A Sort Of Soul-crashing, Devastating Emotional Experience That Wrings You. I Have No Fancy Ideas About Poetry. ... It Doesn't Come To You On The Wings Of A Dove. It's Something You Have To Work Hard At.

Innocence Of Heart And Violence Of Feeling Are Necessary In Any Kind Of Superior Achievement: The Arts Cannot Exist Without Them.