Poetry is language in orbit.
If self is a location, so is love: Bearings taken, markings, cardinal points, Options, obstinacies, dug heels, and distance, Here and there and now and then, a stance.
I have begun to think of life as a series of ripples widening out from an original center.
I always believed that whatever had to be written would somehow get itself written.
Wherever that man went, he went gratefully.
When I first encountered the name of the city of Stockholm, I little thought that I would ever visit it, never mind end up being welcomed to it as a guest of the Swedish Academy and the Nobel Foundation.