Losing too is still ours; and even forgetting still has a shape in the kingdom of transformation. When something's let go of, it circles; and though we are rarely the center of the circle, it draws around us its unbroken, marvelous curve.

There are quantities of human beings, but there are many more faces, for each person has several.

And now we welcome the new year, full of things that have never been

If your everyday life appears to be unworthy subject matter, do not complain to life. Complain to yourself, Lament that you are not poet enough to call up its wealth.

Draw near to Nature. Then try like some first human being to say what you see and experience and love and lose.

We are not permitted to linger, even with what is most intimate.

Beauty is only the start of bearable terror.