life and death

Do not go gentle into that good night


Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

~Dylan Thomas (1914-1953)

FromĀ The Poems of Dylan Thomas, published by New Directions.

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Why I write


The process of killing one’s own fictional character is an interesting thing. It is like saying goodbye to a piece of your own self in some ways. But then you get to reinvent that piece all over again. And that is why I write. If there wasn’t a little piece of me in every character I have ever lovingly created over the course of my life, then they would simply have no soul. After all, how else am I to leave my mark on this world, to show that I was here?