Before I built a wall I'd ask to know What I was walling in or walling out, And to whom I was like to give offence. Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That wants it down.

A poem begins in delight and ends in wisdom.

The Armful For every parcel I stoop down to seize I lose some other off my arms and knees, And the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns, Extremes too hard to comprehend at. once Yet nothing I should care to leave behind. With all I have to hold with hand and mind And heart, if need be, I will do my best. To keep their building balanced at my breast. I crouch down to prevent them as they fall; Then sit down in the middle of them all. I had to drop the armful in the road And try to stack them in a better load.

I cut my own hair. I got sick of barbers because they talk too much. And too much of their talk was about my hair coming out.

I came from a very intellectual neighborhood. When we played cowboys and Indians as kids, I had to be Gandhi.

Poets are like baseball pitchers. Both have their moments. The intervals are the tough things.

We cannot tell some people what it is believe, partly because they are too stupid to understand, partly because we are too proudly vague to explain.