POV: you're in a quiet, cozy spot with a simple view of magnificent trees with colorful leaves on a crisp autumn day - you are wearing fuzzy socks, have a warm drink and a good book with you - the wind is howling at night, you are looking at misty lands and the smell of fire in the hearths is in the air
If the compass breaks,
then follow your heart
And I hope it leads you
right back into my arms
A poet is a nightingale
Who sits in darkness
And sings to cheer its own solitude
With sweet sounds
The thing you are most
afraid to write,
Write that.
— advice to young writers
