What makes life life and not a simple story? Jagged bits moving never still, all along the wall.

Under the seams runs the pain.

Existence will not stop until it gets to beauty.

Everything depends on liking the people and trusting the people. You have to assume that whatever they do will be as good as you want the thing to be and just go ahead with that.

It is for God to fix the time who knows no time.

He came after Homer and before Gertrude Stein, a difficult interval for a poet.

I do think that something of the effect I have on people is to put everything on an edge where they're both infatuated with a kind of charmingness happening in the person or in the writing, and also flatly terrified by a revelation or acceptance of revelation that's almost happening, never quite totally happening.