I left parts of myself everywhere, The way absent-minded people leave Gloves and umbrellas Whose colors are sad from dispensing so much bad luck
Poetry is an orphan of silence. The words never quite equal the experience behind them.
To submit to chance is to reveal the self and its obsessions.
Only poetry can measure the distance between ourselves and the Other.
A poem is an invitation to a voyage. As in life, we travel to see fresh sights.
The secret wish of poetry is to stop time.