A liar goes in fine clothes, a liar goes in rags, a liar is a liar, clothes or no clothes.

People lie because they don't remember clear what they saw. People lie because they can't help making a story better than it was the way it happened.

In the night the cabbages catch at the moon, the leaves drip silver, the rows of cabbages are a series of little silver waterfalls in the moon.

Poetry is the harnessing of the paradox of earth cradling life and then entombing it.

Not often in the story of mankind does a man arrive on earth who is both steel and velvet, who is as hard as rock and soft as drifting fog, who holds in his heart and mind the paradox of terrible storm and peace unspeakable and perfect.

I'll die propped up in bed trying to do a poem about America.

Let your heart look on white sea spray and be lonely. Love is a fool star. You and a ring of stars may mention my name and then forget me. Love is a fool star.