People, the people we really love, where did they come from? What did we do to deserve them?

The industrial world destroys nature not because it doesn’t love it but because it is not afraid of it.

In life, the number of beginnings is exactly equal to the number of endings ... In poetry, the number of beginnings so far exceeds the number of endings that we cannot even conceive of it.

Something unpronounceable followed by a long silence points out my life is becoming a landscape.

Yes, the mistrust of poetry has a long history, for a variety of reasons, but they all come down to sentiment and invention over fact and truth. Figurative language is suspicious.

We are all one question, and the best answer seems to be love—a connection between things.

Poetry is sentimental to begin with. To write a sentimental poem is an act of redundancy.