The origins of poetry are clearly rooted in obscurity, in secretiveness, in incantation, in spells that must at once invoke and protect, tell the secret and keep it.
If we knew the value of suffering, we would ask for it.
It is the first experience you ever had of reading a decent poem: 'Oh, somebody else is lonely, too!
A poem is a finished work of the mind, it is not the work of a finished mind.
I like to read because it kills me.
There is a world which poets cannot seem to enter. It is the world everybody else lives in. And the only thing poets seem to have in common is their yearning to enter this world.