We do not write in order to be understood; we write in order to understand.

Flying alone! Nothing gives such a sense of mastery over time over mechanism, mastery indeed over space, time, and life itself, as this.

We who fly do so for the love of flying. We are alive in the air with this miracle that lies in our hands and beneath our feet.

A way of using words to say things which could not possibly be said in any other way, things which in a sense do not exist till they are born … in poetry.

Selfhood begins with a walking away, And love is proved in letting go.

The poetic myths are dead; and the poetic image, which is the myth of the individual, reigns in their stead.

We do not write in order to be understood; we write in order to understand.