O sweet, delusive Noon, Which the morning climbs to find, O moment sped too soon, And morning left behind.
But if I have a lot of imagination, I could tell myself whatever I wanted, you know. I handle myself quite well. I'm kind of fascist with myself, you know. There's no discussion. There is an order. You follow it.
I did the traditional thing with falling in love with words, reading books and underlining lines I liked and words I didn't know. It was something I always did.