I don't think I write well - just better than anyone else.

I like spaghetti because you don't have to take your eyes off the book to pick about among it, it's all the same.

And immediately Rather than words comes the thought of high windows: The sun-comprehending glass, And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.

You have to distinguish between things that seemed odd when they were new but are now quite familiar, such as Ibsen and Wagner, and things that seemed crazy when they were new and seem crazy now, like 'Finnegans Wake' and Picasso.

What are days for? Days are where we live. They come, they wake us Time and time over. Theyare to be happy in: Where can we live but days?

Novels are about other people and poems are about yourself.

As a child, I thought I hated everybody, but when I grew up I realized it was just children I didn't like.