“Suffering belongs to no language.”

I have no desire to dress up my poetry and make it fancy.

That’s my only concern. Everything else seems wrong.

I want the poem to be as true as humanly possible to the feeling that inspired it.

Destiny doesn’t exist. It’s God we need, and fast.

Dreams grow holy put in action.

You look up to your parents and you want them to accept you,

Perhaps there is in that fact a parable for national statesmen, whose political horizons are all too often limited by national horizons.

Such evil deeds could religion prompt.

Animal abusers are not the only culprits – the consumers are the biggest abusers!

Water is best, but gold shines like fire blazing in the night, supreme of lordly wealth.

It is sheer folly to take unwilling hounds to the chase.

I am not the same person as I started, but then again that was always the point of it.