I was apprehensive. I feared every time I talked about poetry, it would be filtered through the lens of race, sex, and age. — Rita Dove Copy Share Image
“But she feared time itself... the dwindling of life; how year by year her share was sliced; how, little the margin that remained was capable any longer of stretching, of absorbing, as in the youthful years, the colours, salts, tones… — Virginia Woolf Copy Share Image
