Icebergs behoove the soul (both being self-made from elements least visible) to see themselves: fleshed, fair, erected, indivisible.

Heaven is not like flying or swimming, but has something to do with blackness and a strong glare.

The armored cars of dreams, contrived to let us do so many a dangerous thing.

If after I read a poem the world looks like that poem for 24 hours or so I'm sure it's a good one—and the same goes for paintings.

I've never written the things I'd like to write that I've admired all my life. Maybe one never does.

Icebergs behoove the soul (both being self-made from elements least visible) to see themselves: fleshed, fair, erected, indivisible.

All my life I have lived and behaved very much like the sandpiper - just running down the edges of different countries and continents, 'looking for something'.