To think of the myriad ways that we live is to think of the ways that we die: Delinquent in our brains, in debt-- If we settle, then, our due account and walk through the forest, Will we finally be free?

I do not play the instrument In longing but in quest Not to be undertaken Not to be lost In a forest of bliss.

Poetry is God's work.

What separates the professionally successful ... from all the rest is their ability to stay steady, to have stamina. It is one thing to write a good sentence, another to write a good book.

It should be everyone's right in a capitalist system to have some way to take advantage of compound interest.

The sum of the parts equals less than the whole. Or the howl. Or the how. Or the hole.

I remember when I was writing my memoir and I was worried about what other people would think when they read it, and my mother, who can be this incredibly wise person, said that it really didn't matter because strangers who read it would never meet me anyway, and people I knew were aware of my secrets.