A poet can't afford to be aloof. The tools of his trade are the people he bumps up against.

I chose the shadows; they did not choose me. I stay here securely not just because I feel plain, but because disappearance is by now the easy way. The habit. The worn path that I can trod knowingly and be assured safe passage home.

The world needs writers. We will always be necessary. There are few professions that can claim that distinction.

I've been going a long time now along the way I've learned some things. You have to make the good times yourself take the little times and make them into big times and save the times that are all right for the ones that aren't so good.

Watch the indolent butterfly playing on the tall flower in the yard and think about the sun going down. It always does you know.

Love is a sweet thing caught a momentand held in a golden eye.

Do not ask the definition of a friend. He/She is that one without whose company death and dying set in earlier and living is made more pleasurable.