“A house full of scraps of poems, unused ideas. …

“A house full of scraps of poems, unused ideas. A nest of thoughts, the wood chips from an industrious carpenter of the word. Their abundance, like froth, around my existence, excess, boiling over. I don’t know why I sentenced this or that poem to non-being, to silence; why I wrote down this, but not that thought. All froth.”

— Anna Kamienska, from Industrious Amazement: A Notebook (via violentwavesofemotion)