Historical sense and poetic sense should not, in the end, be contradictory, for if poetry is the little myth we make, history is the big myth we live, and in our living, constantly remake.

Poets, we know, are terribly sensitive people, and in my observation one of the things they are most sensitive about is money.

More and more Emerson recedes grandly into history, as the future he predicted becomes a past.

The best luck always happens to people who don't need it.

There is nothing more alone than being in a car at night in the rain.

A look at the past reminds us of how great is the distance, and how short, over which we have come. The past makes us ask what we have done with us. It makes us ask whether our very achievements are not ironical counterpoint and contrast to our fundamental failures.

Everything seems an echo of something else.