Instead of building my nonfiction newsletter empire (sigh), I’ve been reading Paradise Lost & falling in love with Satan, the pre-Byronic Byronic antihero. Thou, profoundest Hell, Receive thy new possessor - one who brings A mind not to be changed by place or time. The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven. For a poem that doesn’t rhyme, this one is strangely rhythmic. So he with difficulty and labour hard Moved on, with difficulty and labour he ...
