Is there anything in the universe more beautiful and protective than the simple complexity of a spider's web?

Don Marquis came down after a month on the wagon, ambled over to the bar, and announced, 'I've conquered that goddamn willpower of mine. Gimme a double Scotch.

A poet dares be just so clear and no clearer... He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it. A poet utterly clear is a trifle glaring.

Use the smallest word that does the job.

It is Sunday, mid-morning-Sunday in the living room, Sunday in the kitchen, Sunday in the woodshed, Sunday down the road in the village: I hear the bells, calling me to share God's grace.

Well,” said Stuart, “a misspelled word is an abomination in the sight of everyone.

A writer's style reveals something of his spirit, his habits, his capacites, his bias...it is the Self escaping into the open.