Ford could believe that people who suffered more also contemplated their experiences more. He certainly spent a great deal of time worrying and fretting about things now that he was in charge of his three younger sisters, his mother, and their rather pitiful financial situation, and prior to his father's death he'd never had the desire nor the need to contemplate any of those things. Having spent a great deal of time worrying about it had not inspired him to want to write any poetry about trying to squeeze a galleon through to his next paycheck, or to juggling bills and invoices so that no one suspected his own forgetfulness was at the heart of the delays.

"Well, if we're using Poe and your diarist as our two examples, it would seem suffering is a much more useful catalyst for poetry than love," he pointed out, in spite of his thoughts regarding his own brand of suffering — maybe he just hadn't been inspired because money wasn't a particularly poetic thing to have to fret over.