I think there must be a place inside of us where dreams go and wait their turn.
A lot of time you write out of some unconscious place. I try to trust what is...
I would go to bed every night and have dreams about having a time machine and...
As I pass it I feel as if I saw a dear old mother sweet in her weakness trembling at the approach of her dissolution but not appealing to me against the inevitable rather endeavouring to reassure me by her patience and pointing to a hopeful future.
