Nobody stays special when they're old, Anna. That's what we have to learn.

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

For of course one is never safe when in love. Growth is demanding and may seem dangerous, for there is loss as well as gain in growth. But why go on living if one has ceased to grow? And what more demanding atmosphere for growth than love in any form, than any relationship which can call out and requires of us our most secret and deepest selves?

For inside all the weakness of old age, the spirit, God knows, is as mercurial as it ever was.

What can I have that I still want?

life is always bringing unexpected gifts.

I feel like an inadequate machine, a machine that breaks down at crucial moments, grinds to a dreadful hault, 'won't go,' or, even worse, explodes in some innocent person's face.