As long as you're dancing, you can break the rules.
The face of the moose is as sad as the face of Jesus.
I grew up in a sad, depressed place. I got out. Poetry saved my life.
On poetry: Everyone wants to know what it means. But nobody is asking, How does it feel?
So come to the pond, or the river of your imagination, or the harbor of your longing, and put your lips to the world. And live your life.
What can we do but keep on breathing in and out, modest and willing, and in our places?