I have always drawn strength from being close to home.
Minutes, hours, days, months, and years, Pass'd over to the end they were created, Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. Ah, what a life were this!
The Eyes are the window to your soul
What a terrible era in which idiots govern the blind.
There are three people in yourself - who people think you are, who you think you are, and who you really are.
New friends may be poems but old friends are alphabets. Don't forget the alphabets because you will need them to read the poems.
If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?
I once knew a girl who didn't know where anywhere was in the world. Not a clue. I asked her if she knew where Africa was and she answered, 'Is it the orange one on a map?'
Pseudo-modernists pursue individual style because they know they cannot make a name without it; but if they had lived in the eighteenth century their sole object would have been to write correctly, to conform to the manner of the period. In practice, their conforming individualism means an imitation, studiously concealed, of the eccentricities of poems which really are individual.
First of all, feminism is not man-hating, not man-berating. It is not saying we are better. It is just saying we want the same opportunities, and we want to be able to make decisions on our own without being judged for them. We want the same freedom men have enjoyed over the years, so I think that's the place where we are. And it's completely not mutually exclusive at all for how you want to look, how you take care of yourself, how you want to be, what you want to look like.
There comes. . . a longing never to travel again except on foot.