A Quote by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Night falls fast. Today is in the past. Blown from the dark hill hither to my door Three flakes, then four Arrive, then many more. — © Edna St. Vincent Millay
Night falls fast. Today is in the past. Blown from the dark hill hither to my door Three flakes, then four Arrive, then many more.
Night falls fast. Today is in the past.
Night falls fast. Today is the past.
So you have Sleep Stage One, Two, and then Three/Four. One is a little bit lighter stage of the quiet, non-REM sleep and then Three/Four is really deep, deep sleep. And what you want is, you actually want a number of - you want to go through all of these stages throughout the night.
What I do is work for three or four years and then I take a year off, and then I come back again and work for three or four years and then take another year off. It is not about just working and then writing for a year. That is not how it is structured. It is about doing very conscious goal-driven activities for four years and then taking a year off in complete surrender to discover facets of myself that I don't know exist and exploring interests with no commercial value associated with them at all.
I'm always like this after fights - I can't sleep, I'm only getting a couple of hours a night for three or four days then all of a sudden I'm wiped out for a full night where I don't even move.
I'm up all night, and then next thing you know, it's the morning, and I'll sleep, like, three hours. I'm a night owl. I'm usually in the studio at night working, and then I get home, I'm on my phone looking at Instagram pictures and buying stuff.
It takes six years to make a golfer: three to learn the game, then another three to unlearn all you have learned in the first three years. You might be a golfer when you arrive at that stage, but more likely you are just starting.
Change always involves a dark night when everything falls apart. Yet if this period of dissolution is used to create new meaning, then chaos ends and new order emerges.
I've developed this routine at home. I wait for the kids to go to bed; then my wife falls asleep. Then, it's dark and quiet enough for me to work on songs.
I write for three or four hours and then hopefully I'll have something. Then I draw for the rest of the afternoon... I literally block out Wednesday-Thursday-Friday - I more or less disappear.
Woke up last night half past four, fifty women knocking on my door.
Slowly, quietly, like snow-flakes—like the small flakes that come when it is going to snow all night —little flakes of me, my impressions, my selections, are settling down on the image of her. The real shape wil be quite hidden in the end.
When my hair was dark for 'House,' that was the hardest to maintain because it was like every three weeks my light roots would start coming in. And you can't really just dye your hair one color brown because then it looks like a helmet on television, so then I had to have four colors of brown woven into my hair every three weeks.
A man is at the bar, drunk. I pick him up off the floor, and offer to take him home. On the way to my car, he falls down three times. When I get to his house, I help him out of the car, and on the way to the front door, he falls down four more times. I ring the bell and say, Here's your husband! The man's wife says, Where's his wheelchair?
For the past three or four years you know the crowd's behind you, supporting you, and to then be given a bit of a boo is not a good feeling.
I'm sure everybody looked at me cockeyed. But if you don't believe it, then it's not going to happen. If you don't believe it, no one else is going to believe it. But if you believe it and keep saying it, then slowly one person will believe you, then two, then three, then four . . .
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