One cannot balance tragedy in the scales Unless one weighs it with the tragic heart.

Life is not lost by dying! Life is lost, Minute by minute, day by dragging day, In all the thousand, small, uncaring ways...

Broad-streeted Richmond . . . The trees in the streets are old trees used to living with people, Family trees that remember your grandfather's name.

I admire the attention other writers can give to the world we're walking in.

I died in my boots like a pioneer With the whole wide sky above me.

I think a blog is a catalyst for a number of possible kinds of writing besides being its own medium.

There's nothing compared to the history of writing about the city of New York that you get, say, in Charles Reznikoff.