Perhaps this very instant is your time.

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

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

It is not possible, for a poet, writing in any language, to protect himself from the tragic elements in human life.... [ellipsis in source] Illness, old age, and death--subjects as ancient as humanity--these are the subjects that the poet must speak of very nearly from the first moment that he begins to speak.

I'll lie here and learn How, over their ground, Trees make a long shadow And a light sound.

Women have no wilderness in them They are provident instead Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts To eat dusty bread.

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