Young love is a flame very pretty, often very hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. The love of the older and disciplined heart is as coals, deep-burning, unquenchable. – Henry Ward Beecher
I think that is where poetry reading becomes such an individual thing. I mean I have friend who like poets who just dont say anything to me at all, I mean they seem to me rather ordinary and pedestrian. – James Laughlin
