I was a fool three years ago. One is always a fool three years ago.
It is about her death, but it is also about our life together, we were married 23 wonderful years
I think I'm probably finished writing about it now
My great-great-grandparents owned the back pew and they were among those who built the structure back in the 1800s
I came here every year when I was kid
] came out in 1955, my first reviews were puffs. Then Stanley wrote a long, somewhat censorious review in Poetry magazine. He gave me hell about some things. He said good things about my skill, but it was a case of lots of skill but not much self-knowledge. Stanley was right .
Substitute teachers have a part in the success of these students
As Henry Moore carvedor modelled his sculpture every day,he strove to surpass Donatello4. and failed, but woke the next morningelated for another try.
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The pleasure we feel, reading a poem, is our assurance of its integrity.
poetry
But Blake's voices returned to dictate revisions.
[O]ver the years I travelled to another universe. However alert we are, however much we think we know what will happen, antiquity remains an unknown, unanticipated galaxy. It is alien, and old people are a separate form of life. They have green skin, with two heads that sprout antennae. They can be pleasant, they can be annoying--in the supermarket, these old ladies won't get out of my way--but most important they are permanently other. When we turn eighty, we understand that we are extraterrestrial. If we forget for a moment that we are old, we are reminded when we try to stand up, or when we encounter someone young, who appears to observe green skin, extra heads, and protuberances.
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Worship is not love.
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