One writes in order to feel.
What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? The world would split open.
There is also, in any history, the buried, the wasted, and the lost.
A world is to be fought for, sung, and built: Love must imagine the world.
Dreams are the sources of action, the meeting and the end, a resting place among the flight of things.
No one wants to read poetry. You have to make it impossible for them to put the poem down--impossible for them to stop reading it, word after word. You have to keep them from closing the book.