At Midnight Tears Run Into

No More Pronouncements On Lousy Verse. No More Hidden Competition. No More Struggling Not To Be A Square.

I Cannot Believe That The Inscrutable Universe Turns On An Axis Of Suffering; Surely The Strange Beauty Of The World Must Somewhere Rest On Pure Joy!

A Thousand Kindnesses Do Not Make Up For A Thousand Blows.

I Hope That One Or Two Immortal Lyrics Will Come Out Of All This Tumbling Around.

The Art Of One Period Cannot Be Approached Through The Attitudes (emotional Or Intellectual) Of Another.