Both poet and painter want to reach the silence behind the language, the silence within the language. Both painter and poet want their work to shine not only in daylight but (by whatever illusionist magic) from within.

Nothing in the universe can travel at the speed of light, they say, forgetful of the shadow's speed.

Short stories amount for the most part to parlour tricks, party favours with built-in snappers, gadgets for including recognition and reversals

Why are stamps adorned with kings and presidents? That we may lick their hinder parts and thump their heads.

Write what you know. That should leave you with a lot of free time.

Mostly the thought and the verse come inseparably. In my poem Poetics, it's as close as I come to telling how I do it.

The historian is terribly responsible to what he can discern are the facts of the case, but he's nothing if he doesn't make out a case.