Reading is a mysterious activity; a kind of hallucinatory state, both vivid and frustratingly ephemeral. Whatever it is that we are utterly absorbed in will more often than not vanish from memory the moment it is set aside.
The Happy Reader, Winter 2018 Issue
Writing is hard, or everyone would do it.
The Art of Dying, Peter Schjeldahl
Writing consumes writers. No end of ones better than I am have said as much. The passion hurts relationships. I think off and on about people I love, but I think about writing all the time.
I can see the paragraphs I’m writing as little jail cells, penning me into perspectives, conceits, ideas, jokes, and memories—stories! Not an original type of anxiety, for a writer.
Poetry makes nothing happen.
In Memory of W. B. Yeats, W. H. Auden
וכמובן הכי אהבתי את האמירה של yeats
השבמחקשזה פיכחון גדול