Can you see through the night, woman, that you stare so upon it? Man, what sparks do your eyes follow in the smouldering darkness?
Happiness, to some, is elation; to others it is mere stagnation.
I never deny poems when they come; whatever I am doing, whatever I am writing, I lay it aside and attend to the arriving poem.
You are ice and fire the touch of you burns my hands like snow.
All books are either dreams or swords, you can cut, or you can drug, with words.
Poetry is the most concentrated form of literature; it is the most emotionalized and powerful way in which thought can be presented.