There can be no whiter whiteness than this one: An insurance man's shirt on its morning run.

People like definite decisions, / Tidy answers, all the little ravelings / Snipped off, the lint removed, they / Hop happily among their roughs / Calling what they can't clutch insanity / Or saintliness.

I tell poets that when a line just floats into your head, don't pay attention 'cause it probably has floated into somebody else's head.

Say to them, say to the down-keepers, the sun-slappers, the self-soilers, the harmony-hushers, "Even if you are not ready for day it cannot always be night." You will be right. For that is the hard home-run. Live not for battles won. Live not for the-end-of-the-song. Live in the along.

I've always thought of myself as a reporter. When people ask why I don't stop writing, I say, `Look at what's happening in this world. Every day there's something exciting or disturbing to write about.’ With all that's going on, how could I stop?

I like the concentration, the crush; I like working with language, as others like working with clay, or notes.

Life for my child is simple, and is good.