Where Music Thundered Let The Mind Be

I Can Tell You That Solitude Is Not All Exaltation, Inner Space Where The Soul Breathes And Work Can Be Done. Solitude Exposes The Nerve, Raises Up Ghosts. The Past, Never At Rest, Flows Through It.

Time Spent With Poets Is Never Wasted.

One Of The Springs Of Poetry Is Joy.

It Is The Place Of Renewal And Of Safety, Where For A Little While There Will Be No Harm Or Attack And, While Every Sense Is Nourished, The Soul Rests.

When I Am Working I Immediately Feel Hopeful.