For me, as soon as money enters the picture, the fun is (mostly) gone; with money comes responsibility, whoever is providing the money buys the right to demand answers and project deadlines. It’s no longer “because I enjoy doing it”, but “because he tells me to”.
There is a prospect greater than the sea, and it is the sky; there is a prospect greater than the sky, and it is the human soul.
To make a poem of the human conscience, even in terms of a single man and the least of men, would be to merge all epics in a single epic transcending all… To peer at certain moments into the withdrawn face of a human being in the act of reflection, to see something of what lies behind their outward silence, is to discern struggle on a Homeric scale, conflicts of dragons and hydras, aerial hosts as in Milton, towering vistas as in Dante. The infinite space that each man carries within himself, wherein despairingly he contrasts the movements of his spirit with the acts of his life, is an overpowering thing.