Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.
Nothing matters but the writing. There has been nothing else worthwhile... a stain upon the silence.
Where I am, I don't know, I'll never know, in the silence you don't know, you must go on, I can't go on, I'll go on.
There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet.
Just under the surface I shall be, all together at first, then separate and drift, through all the earth and perhaps in the end through a cliff into the sea, something of me. A ton of worms in an acre, that is a wonderful thought, a ton of worms, I believe it.