Kindle Notes & Highlights
not death but what it surrounds, this one life that is all that I am, prize I fail to value because I mistake it for a consolation against the sting of some other, greater loss.
You love your children as much as anything you were unprepared for: fiercely, with fear, with all the fucking hatred it takes.
So why did I choose poetry? Maybe because it acknowledges right away what scares me most,
was brought up to believe the world should be fair, not that I should have to make it so.
Isn't it a perfect way to describe the well-intentioned naive white man?
