My ear is not working, my poetry ear. I can't write a line that doesn't sound like pots and pans falling out of the cupboard.

The soul's bliss and suffering are bound together.

There's just no accounting for happiness, or the way it turns up like a prodigal who comes back to the dust at your feet having squandered a fortune far away.

A poet's job is to find a name for everything: to be a fearless finder of the names of things.

Let it come, as it will, and don't be afraid. God does not leave us comfortless, so let evening come.

Be a good steward of your gifts. Protect your time. Feed your inner life. Avoid too much noise. Read good books, have good sentences in your ears. Be by yourself as often as you can. Walk. Take the phone off the hook. Work regular hours.

If you want a different life, you gotta start doing and learning different things.