I write slowly because I write badly. I have to rewrite everything many, many times just to achieve mediocrity.
“Heart mine, art mine, whose embraces
Clasp but wind that past thee bloweth
E’en this air so subtly gloweth,
Guerdoned by thy sun-gold traces,
That my heart is half afraid
For the fragrance on him laid;
Even so love’s might amazes!”
Ezra Pound | “Canzon: To Be Sung Beneath a Window”