Forget the suffering You caused others. Forget the suffering Others caused you. The waters run and run, Springs sparkle and are done, You walk the earth you are forgetting.

In a room where people unanimously maintain a conspiracy of silence, one word of truth sounds like a pistol shot.

What is this enigmatic impulse that does not allow one to settle down in the achieved, the finished? I think it is a quest for reality.

Poetry is a dividend from what you know and what you are.

We have become indifferent to content, and react, not even to form, but to technique, to technical efficiency itself.

A day so happy. Fog lifted early. I worked in the garden. Hummingbirds were stopping over honeysuckle flowers. There was no thing on earth I wanted to possess. I know no one worth my envying him.

When I die, I will see the lining of the world. The other side, beyond bird, mountain, sunset.