Here life goes on, even and monotonous on the surface, full of lightning, of summits and of despair, in its depths. We have now arrived at a stage in life so rich in new perceptions that cannot be transmitted to those at another stage - one feels at the same time full of so much gentleness and so much despair - the enigma of this life grows, grows, drowns one and crushes one, then all of a sudden in a supreme moment of light one becomes aware of the sacred.

True power is given to the vulnerable.

Revision is not going back and fussing around, but going forward into the process of creation

poetry is first of all a way of life and only secondarily a way of writing.

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

letters are so much easier than living. One can give one's best.

Poetry finds its perilous equilibrium somewhere between music and speech.