... imaginary gardens with real toads in them ... ... if you demand on one hand, the raw material of poetry in all its rawness and that which is on the other hand genuine, then you are interested in poetry.

We are suffering from too much sarcasm.

Impatience is the mark of independence, not of bondage.

Fanaticism? No. Writing is exciting and baseball is like writing. You can never tell with either how it will go.

I am hard to disgust, but a pretentious poet can do it

Omissions are not accidents.

Blessed the geniuses who know / that egomania is not a duty.