What we do battle with is so small, what battles us is so large.

Where I create, there I am true.

For poems are not, as people think, simply emotions (one has emotions early enough)-they are experiences.

If my devils are to leave me, I'm afraid my angels will take flight as well.

A billion stars go spinning through the night, / glittering above your head, / But in you is the presence that will be / when all the stars are dead.

Everything is gestation and then birthing.

And now let us believe in a long year that is given to us, new, untouched, full of things that have never been, full of work that has never been done, full of tasks, claims, and demands; and let us see that we learn to take it without letting fall too much of what it has to bestow upon those who demand of it necessary, serious, and great things.