Part of the strength of Pollock and Rothko's art, in fact, is this doubt as to whether art may be there at all.

Reading is a pleasure, but to finish reading, to come to the blank space at the end, is also a pleasure.

Imagine a painter crucified by his subject!

I always thought that writing poetry was in itself a political act.

I'm heading for a clean-named place like Wisconsin, and mad as a jack-o'-lantern, will get there without help and nosy proclivities.

I tried each thing, only some were immortal and free.

A yak is a prehistoric cabbage; of that, we can be sure.