Once every five hundred years or so, a summary statement about poetry comes along that we can't imagine ourselves living without

One can't have it both ways and both ways is the only way I want it.

If the greatest god is the stillness all the motions add up to, then we must ineluctably be included.

I take the walk to be the externalization of an interior seeking so that the analogy is first of all between the external and the internal.

Only silence perfects silence.

Where but in the very asshole of comedown is redemption: as where but brought low, where but in the grief of failure, loss, error do we discern the savage afflictions that turn us around: where but in the arrangements love crawls us through

Once every five hundred years or so, a summary statement about poetry comes along that we can't imagine ourselves living without