Man is a long time coming. Man will yet win. Brother may yet line up with brother: This old anvil laughs at many broken hammers.There are men who can't be bought.

Poetry is a plan for a slit in the face of a bronze fountain goat and the path of fresh drinking water.

There was always the consolation that if I didn't like what I wrote I could throw it away or burn it.

In democracy both a deep reverence and a sense of the comic are requisite.

Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable.

By night the skyscraper looms in the smoke and the stars and has a soul.

Poetry is the journal of a sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air.