At the beach - time you enjoyed wasting, is not wasted.

If we all were judged according to the consequences Of all our words and deeds, beyond the intention And beyond our limited understanding Of ourselves and others, we should all be condemned.

At the violet hour, when the eyes and back Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits Like a taxi throbbing waiting I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives.

Never commit yourself to a cheese without having first examined it.

It is only in the world of objects that we have time and space and selves.

In a world of fugitives the one who stays home will seem to be running away

What a poem means is as much what it means to others as what it means to the author; and indeed, in the course of time a poet may become merely reader in respect to his own works, forgetting his original meaning.