There are, it seems, two muses: the Muse of Inspirational, who gives us inarticulate visions and desires, and the Muse of Realization, who returns again and again to say "It is yet more difficult than you thought." This is the muse of form. It may be then that form serves us best when it works as an obstruction, to baffle us and deflect our intended course. It may be that when we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work and when we no longer know which way to go, we have begun our real journey. The mind that is not baffled is not employed. The impeded stream is the one that sings.

I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life.

I begin to long for some little language such as lovers use, broken words, inarticulate words, like the shuffling of feet on pavement.

I was in enough to get along with people. I was never socially inarticulate. Not a loner. And that saved my life saved my sanity. That and the writing. But to this day I distrust anybody who thought school was a good time. Anybody.