A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word to paper.

It seemed to me that I should have a desk, even though I had no real need for a desk. I was afraid that if I had no desk in my room my life would seem too haphazard.

Writing is both mask and unveiling.

Writing is not an exercise in excision, it's a journey into sound.

Once in everyone's life there is apt to be a period when he is fully awake, instead of half-asleep.

A poem compresses much in a small space and adds music, thus heightening its meaning. The city is like poetry: it compresses all life, all races and breeds, into a small island and adds music and the accompaniment of internal engines. The island of Manhattan is without any doubt the greatest human concentrate on earth, the poem whose magic is comprehensible to millions of permanent residents but whose full meaning will always remain elusive.

Reading is the work of the alert mind, is demanding, and under ideal conditions produces finally a sort of ecstasy.