Seamus Heany, 1939 - 2013
☛ The main thing is to write for the joy of it. Cultivate a work-lust that imagines its haven like your hands at night, dreaming the sun in the sunspot of a breast. You are fasted now, light-headed, dangerous. Take off from here. And don’t be so earnest.
☛ And catch the heart off guard and blow it open.
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