Think of the long trip home. Should we have stayed home and thought of here? Where should we be today?

Being a poet is one of the unhealthier jobs--no regular hours, so many temptations!

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.

The whole shadow of Man is only as big as his hat.

Time to plant tears, says the almanac. The grandmother sings to the marvelous stove and the child draws another inscrutable house.

Democracy in the contemporary world demands, among other things, an educated and informed people.

Close, close all night the lovers keep. They turn together in their sleep, Close as two pages in a book that read each other in the dark. Each knows all the other knows, learned by heart from head to toes.