For madness must be punished in a world in which mere sanity is prized. The revenge of the ordinary upon the gifted.

How does the poet transform his banal thoughts (are not most thoughts banal?) into such stunning forms, into beauty?

I believe that the creative impulse is natural in all human beings, and that it is particularly powerful in children unless it is suppressed. Consequently, one is behaving normally and instinctively and healthily when one is creating - literature, art, music, or whatever. An excellent cook is also creative! I am disturbed that a natural human inclination [creative work] should, by some Freudian turn of phrase, be considered compulsive - perhaps even pathological. To me this is a complete misreading of the human enterprise. One should also enjoy one's work, and look forward to it daily.

We inhabit ourselves without valuing ourselves, unable to see that here, now, this very moment is sacred; but once it’s gone – its value is incontestable.

Not to be alone. To be spared the possibility of knowing oneself, in aloneness.

Is there any mystery like who you finally turn out to be.

Beauty is a question of optics. All sight is illusion.