"A poet is a blind optimist. The world is against him for many reasons. But the poet persists. He believes that he is on the right track, no matter what any of his fellow men say. In his eternal search for truth, the poet is alone.
I start to think, 'It's awful being too poor to even buy my own dress for homecoming.' But that's instantly swept away by another thought: 'I'm so lucky that someone cates enough to loan me a dress.
"His optimism blinded her. He was full of plans. "I have an idea!" he said often. She imagined him as a child surrounded by too many brightly colored toys, always being encouraged to carry out "projects", always being told that his mundane ideas were wonderful."