• A crucible of my own making

• Half inevitably, half by choice

• A twisted moral

• Everyday and to-morrow

• A mathematic dead-wall

• My neat blue chair

• A lost person

• A thin damnedness

• A prison of self

• A winding sheet

• The Dover road

• The harp of worn strings

• A strongly-windy Saturday

• A someway separate individual

• Sincerity and despair

• It’s not death

• A human prerogative

• The merciless beauty

• My shoes

• An eerie quality

• A helliad

• Swift go my days

• By the blood of dead Americans

• To express me

• Bastard lacy valentines

• Sweet fine sweatings of blood

• Instinct—a ‘first law’

• Loose twos

• Knitting or plaiting straw

• A life-long lonely word

• Their voices

• My damns

• To God, care of the whistling winds

• A working diaphragm

• Lot’s wife

• My echoing footsteps

• A comfortably vicious person

• In my black dress and my still room

• Their little shoes

• The sleep of the dead

• Stickily mad

• God compensates me

• The strange braveness

• Just beneath my skin

• God’s kindly caprice

• A fascinating creature

• No resonance

• Black-browed Wednesdays

• The conscious analyst

• Eye when I mean tooth

• A wild mare

• The mist

• A white liner

• Beneficent bedlam

• A deathly pathos

• The necklace

• Slyly garbling and cross-purposing

• Not quite voilÀ-tout

• A damned spider

• To wander and hang and float about

• A thousand kisses

• A fluttering-moth wish

• Twenty inches of ajarness

• A profoundly delicious idea

• A mountebank’s cloak

• A familiar sharp twist

• A dark bright fierce fire

• Late afternoon

• An ancient witch-light

• The gray-purple

• The subdivided cell

• Food and fire

• The edge of mist-and-silver

• A right shape and size

• Ice-water, corrosive acid and human breath

• Rhythm

• A prayer-feeling

I, MARY MACLANE