Go rich in poverty. Go rich in poetry. This nothingness is plentitude.
About loving, I have little to learn from the young.
The garden is growth and change and that means loss as well as constant new treasures to make up for a few disasters.
Love cannot exorcise the gifts of hate. / Hate cannot exorcize what has no weight, / But laughter we can never over-rate.
The more articulate one is, the more dangerous words become.
I am furious at all the letters to answer, when all I want to do is think and write poems. ... I long for open time, with no obligations except toward the inner world and what is going on there.