[The] whirlwind fife-and-drum of the storm bends the salt marsh grass, disturbs stars in the sky and the star on the steeple; it is a privilege to see so much confusion.

Superior people never make long visits.

Poetry is all nouns and verbs.

As contagion of sickness makes sickness, contagion of trust can make trust.

Wolf's wool is the best of wool, / but it cannot be sheared because / the wolf will not comply.

I never 'plan' a stanza. Words cluster like chromosomes, determining the procedure.

I believe verbal felicity is the fruit of ardor, of diligence, and of refusing to be false.