Flowers and plants are silent presences. They nourish every sense except the ear.

I’m only able to write poetry, for the most part, when I have a Muse, a woman who focuses the world for me.

Time spent with poets is never wasted.

I have never written a book that was not born out of a question I needed to answer for myself.

Go rich in poverty. Go rich in poetry. This nothingness is plentitude.

I know you have much to bear with in me, and I really do sometimes in you, but I have never looked at friendship in a deep sense as easy or entirely comfortable.

What is there to do when people die - people so dear and rare - but bring them back by remembering?