Poetry is an art practiced with the terribly plastic material of human language.

Anger is the most impotent of passions. It effects nothing it goes about, and hurts the one who is possessed by it more than the one against whom it is directed.

If [America] forgets where she came from, if the people lose sight of what brought them along, if she listens to the deniers and mockers, then will begin the rot and dissolution.

God, let me remember all good losers.

Poetry is a sequence of dots and dashes, spelling depths, crypts, cross-lights, and moon wisps.

There is a warning love sends and the cost of it is never written till long afterward.

I glory in this world of men and women, torn with troubles, yet living on to love and laugh through it all.