I Was Tired Of Men.

The Poets Are The Standard Bearers Of Language. Their Work Lives Or Dies Word By Word. When I Write And Can Hear A Clunky Sentence, I Try To Write Up To The Poetry That I Have Recited Beforehand.

A Cliche Is Like A Coin That Has Been Handled Too Much. Once Language Has Been Overly Handled, It No Longer Leaves A Clear Imprint.

We Read So That We Can Be Moved By A New Way Of Looking At Things.

I Hated Labels Anyway. People Didn't Fit In Slots--prostitute, Housewife, Saint--like Sorting The Mail. We Were So Mutable, Fluid With Fear And Desire, Ideals And Angles, Changeable As Water.

We Recived Our Colouring From The Norsemen,hairy Savages Who Hacked Their Gods To Pieces And Hung The Flesh From Trees.we Are The Ones Who Sacked Rome.fear Only Feeble Old Age And Death In Bed.don't Forget Who You Are.