Breathe the sweetness that hovers in August.

The world is not with us enough. O taste and see.

It is fatal to one's artistic life to talk about something that is in process.

There is no savor more sweet, more salt than to be glad to be what, woman, and who, myself, I am.

I thought I was growing wings— it was a cocoon. I thought, now is the time to step into the fire— it was deep water. Eschatology is a word I learned as a child: the study of Last Things; facing my mirror—no longer young, the news—always of death, the dogs—rising from sleep and clamoring and howling, howling.... ("Seeing For a Moment")

A poet articulating the dreads and horrors of our time is necessary in order to make readers understand what is happening, really understand it, not just know about it but feel it: and should be accompanied by a willingness on the part of those who write it to take additional action towards stopping the great miseries which they record.

I'm not very good at praying, but what I experience when I'm writing a poem is close to prayer.