Routine is not a prison, but the way into freedom from time.

I tell the gods are still alive / And they are not consoling.

For me the moral dilemma this past year has been how to make peace with the unacceptable.

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

When it comes to the important things one is always alone.

I sometimes imagine that as one grows older one comes to live a role which as a young person one merely 'played.

In the novel or the journal you get the journey. In a poem you get the arrival.