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

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.

I'm more interested in the writing than in the content per se (good writing can be about wallpaper and I'll devour it).

The ghosts of Rilke and Wordsworth--along with the 300+ MFA programs, which now seem to employ all Living Poets--have misled the American public egregiously into thinking that poets are morally pure and/or useless.

There is, in the heart, the hard-rendering profit. As if we were plucking the leaves from the trees.

It is bizarre that some people can't understand how a serious poet could work at a finance firm. Goethe was a bureaucrat. Eliot worked as a banker.

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