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

Ports are necessities, like postage stamps or soap, but they seldom seem to care what impressions they make.

Hoping to live days of greater happiness, I forget that days of less happiness are passing by.

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

Someone loves us all.

Bishop on "At the Fishhouses"At the last minute, after I'd had a chance to do a little research in Cape Breton, I foundI'd said codfish scales once when it should have been herring scales. I hope theycorrected it all right.2Quite a few lines of "At the Fishhouses" came to me in a dream, and the scene- whichwas real enough, I'd recently been there-but the old man and the conversation, etc.,were all in a later dream

What one seems to want in art, in experiencing it, is the same thing that is necessary for its creation, a self-forgetful, perfectly useless concentration.