Poetry is a mock of a cry at finding a million dollars and a mock of a laugh at losing it.

After the sunset on the prairie, there are only the stars

I couldn't see myself filling some definite niche in what is called a career. This was all misty.

I won't take my religion from any man who never works except with his mouth.

Gather the stars if you wish it so Gather the songs and keep them. Gather the faces of women. Gather for keeping years and years. And then... Loosen your hands, let go and say good-bye. Let the stars and songs go. Let the faces and years go. Loosen your hands and say good-bye.

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

Never will a time come when the most marvelous recent invention is as marvelous as a newborn child.