When it's over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

Every day I see or hear something that more or less kills me with delight, that leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light.

Who do you want to be in your one wild and precious life?

The three ingredients of poetry: the mystery of the universe, spiritual curiosity, the energy of language.

The end of life has its own nature, also worth our attention.

In college, you learn how to learn. Four years is not too much time to spend at that.

When the blackberries hang swollen in the woods, in the brambles nobody owns, I spend all day among the high branches, reaching my ripped arms, thinking of nothing, cramming the black honey of summer into my mouth; all day my body accepts what it is. In the dark creeks that run by there is this thick paw of my life darting among the black bells, the leaves; there is this happy tongue.