... the poem reminds us of what we ourselves know, but did not know we knew; reminds us, above all, of what we are.

And see the peaceful trees extend their myriad leaves in leisured dance- they bear the weight of sky and cloud upon the fountain of their veins.

I couldn't claim that I have never felt the urge to explore evil, but when you descend into hell you have to be very careful.

Of all the arts the living of a life is perhaps the greatest; to live every moment of life with the same imaginative commitment as the poet brings to a special field.

Nature is the common, universal language, understood by all.

Being a poet is not a job or a profession but a way of life.

Academia is a graveyard of poets.