I Write Poems, Have Always Written Them,

What We Have Not Has Made Us What We Are. / ... / What We Are Not Drives Us To Consummation.

Flowers And Plants Are Silent Presences. They Nourish Every Sense Except The Ear.

I Long For The Bulbs To Arrive, For The Early Autumn Chores Are Melancholy, But The Planting Of Bulbs Is The Work Of Hope And Is Always Thrilling.

Don't Forget That Compared To A Grownup Person Every Baby Is A Genius.

My Own Feeling Is That The Only Possible Reason For Engaging In The Hard Labor Of Writing A Novel, Is That One Is Bothered By Something One Needs To Understand, And Can Come To Understand Only Through The Characters In The Imagined Situation.