When People Are Finding Meaning In Things

I Have Given Up Considering Happiness As Relevant.

Some Tiny Creature, Mad With Wrath, Is Coming Nearer On The Path.

I Thought I'd Be A Librarian Until I Met Some Crazy Ones.

Neither Mine Nor Other People's Prospects Seem Particularly Pleasing Just At The Moment, And I Have Fantasies Of Going To Iceland, Never To Return. As It Is, I Tell Myself Not To Remember The Past, Not To Hope Or Fear For The Future, And Not To Think In The Present, A Comprehensive Program That Will Undoubtedly Have Very Little Success.

I Don't Think Anything Might Have Been. What Is, Is.