King Solomon's life reminds meof wisdom, wealth, women, woes.

When I write...I am in the fond armsof a childhood friendupon whose colorful heart I can hang the charcoal drawingsof my woes.

On the surface, I seem to be glad of new people;But doomed to leave old friends behind me,I cry out from my heart for Shin-Fêng wineTo melt away my thousand woes.

If one bad thing befell me, I immediately linked it to every bad thing that had happened in the last week or might happen in the coming week. And when I became sad, I was prone to wallow in grief, piling up my woes and sprawling on them like a dragon on a hoard.

But writers and their woes: they couldn't be parted. Not for anything.