If you want the truth, I will tell you the truth: Friend, listen: the God whom I love is inside.

Be careful how quickly you give away your fire.

Every part of you that you do not love will regress and become hostile towards you.

I have daughters and I have sons./When one of them lays a hand/On my shoulder, shining fish/Turn suddenly in the deep sea.

I wanted to spend all my time writing poetry. But when I had children I couldn't do that anymore.

As I've gotten older, I find I am able to be nourished more by sorrow and to distinguish it from depression.

Those of us who make up poems have agreed not to say what the pain is.