When They Turn The Sun On Again

God Owns Heaven But He Craves The Earth.

There Is Joy In All: In The Hair I Brush Each Morning, In The Cannon Towel, Newly Washed, That I Rub My Body With Each Morning.

O Starry Night, This Is How I Want To Die

I Like You; Your Eyes Are Full Of Language." [letter To Anne Clarke, July 3, 1964.]

I Think Of Myself As Writing For One Person, That One Perfect Reader Who Understands And Loves.