Because language is the carrier of ideas, it is easy to believe that it should be very little else than such a carrier.

I cannot believe that the inscrutable universe turns on an axis of suffering; surely the strange beauty of the world must somewhere rest on pure joy!

What we suffer, what we endure, what we muff, what we kill, what we miss, what we are guilty of, is done by us, as individuals, in private.

Your work is carved out of agony as a statue is carved out of marble.

All art, in spite of the struggles of some critics to prove otherwise, is based on emotion and projects emotion.

The measured blood beats out the year's delay.

Up from the bronze, I saw Water without a flaw Rush to its rest in air Reach to its rest, and fall.