Always there is something worth saying about glory, about gratitude.

I worked probably 25 years by myself, just writing and working, not trying to publish much, not giving readings.

I took one look and fell, hook and tumble.

Of course! The path to heaven doesn't lie down in flat miles. It's in the imagination with which you perceive this world, and the gestures with which you honor it.

If I've done my work well, I vanish completely from the scene. I believe it is invasive of the work when you know too much about the writer.

... Let us risk the wildest places, Lest we go down in comfort, and despair.

I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable and beautiful and afraid of nothing as though I had wings.