There the door is always open into the “holy” — growth, birth, death.

Being very rich as far as I am concerned is having a margin. The margin is being able to give.

For to be desperate is to discover strength. / We die of comfort and by conflict live.

What we have not has made us what we are. / ... / What we are not drives us to consummation.

One could go on revising a prose page forever whereas there is a point in a poem when one knows it is done forever.

each new poem is partly propelled by the formal energies of all the poems that have preceded it in the history of literature.

Don't forget that compared to a grownup person every baby is a genius.