a poet never feels useful.

I would like to believe when I die that I have given myself away like a tree that sows seed every spring and never counts the loss, because it is not loss, it is adding to future life. It is the tree's way of being. Strongly rooted perhaps, but spilling out its treasure on the wind.

The woman who needs to create works of art is born with a kind of psychic tension in her which drives her unmercifully to find a way to balance, to make herself whole. Every human being has this need: in the artist it is mandatory. Unable to fulfill it, he goes mad. But when the artist is a woman she fulfills it at the expense of herself as a woman.

A house that does not have one warm, comfy chair in it is soulless.

Read between the lines.Then meet me in the silence if you can.

I feel more alive when I'm writing than I do at any other time--except maybe when I'm making love.

Mountains define you. You cannot define / Them.