Who do you serve? Do you serve somebody? I serve the poem, no one..

I never have anything to talk about..

What God originates, God orchestrates..

I like my work to stand on its own as much as possible..

There is beauty in everything, Just not everybody sees it.

Swallows and Amazons for-ever!.

Some changes are so slow, you don't notice them, others are so fast, they don't notice you..

and nobody knows what’s going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old.

“I often think,” said she, “that there is nothing so bad as parting with one's friends. One seems so forlorn without them.”.