You must believe: a poem is a holy thing - a good poem, that is. The poem, even a short time after being written, seems no miracle; unwritten, it seems something beyond the capacity of the gods.

All lovers live by longing, and endure: Summon a vision and declare it pure.

The visible exhausts me. I am dissolved in shadow.

I am overwhelmed by the beautiful disorder of poetry, the eternal virginity of words.

In our age, if a boy or girl is untalented, the odds are in favor of their thinking they want to write.

I teach my sighs to lengthen into songs.

And I walked, I walked through the light air; I moved with the morning.