I am working out the vocabulary of my silence.

I remember mother saying : Inventors are like poets, a trashy lot

However confused the scene of our life appears, however torn we may be who now do face that scene, it can be faced, and we can go on to be whole.

the truth of a poem is its form and its content, its music and its meaning are the same.

In time of crisis, we summon up our strength. Then, if we are lucky, we are able to call every resource, every forgotten image that can leap to our quickening, every memory that can make us know our power. And this luck is more than it seems to be: it depends on the long preparation of the self to be used.

The fear of poetry is an indication that we are cut off from our own reality.

Try to live as if there were a God