The amount of horror one used to hear about in one village could be quite extreme. But one might not have heard about all the other villages' horrors at the same time.

Maybe in order to understand sex fully/one has to risk being destroyed by it.

Every poet I know - although there may be some I don't know who lead very different lives, who maybe live in the country and don't teach - tends to be just like the rest of us: just really busy, really overcommitted.

Who wants to put together something that will bear some relationship to the vision or memory or experience or story or idea or dream or whatever.

This creature of the poem may assemble itself into a being with its own centrifugal force.

I was a late bloomer. But anyone who blooms at all, ever, is very lucky.

At one point I took on a new job, and I just didn't have time to do anything but work.