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

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

It is through the acceptance of a variety of aethetic and intellectual points of view that a culture is given breadth and density.

Hate does not present many choices; if hate is your solution, you are fairly certain to hate all phemonena with equal joy and intensity, without troubling to drag into prominence any one feature from the loathsome whole.

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.

The measured blood beats out the year's delay.

But it's silly to suggest the writing of poetry is something ethereal, a sort of soul-crashing, devastating emotional experience that wrings you. I have no fancy ideas about poetry. ... It doesn't come to you on the wings of a dove. It's something you have to work hard at.