When words lose their meaning, physical force takes over. <i>from an essay for</i> <b>Writers by Nancy Crampton</b> - W. H. Auden

All the rest is silence
On the other side of the wall;
And the silence ripeness,
And the ripeness all.

Normally, when one passes someone on the street who is in pain, one either tries to help him, or one simply looks the other way. With a photo there's no human decision; you're not there; you can't turn away; you simply gape. It's a form of voyeurism.

I never write when I'm drunk. Why should one need aids? The Muse is a high-spirited girl who doesn't like to be brutally or coarsely wooed. And she doesn't like slavish devotion — then she lies.