We think by feeling. What is there to know?

I wish I could find an event that meant as much as simple seeing.

I learned not to fear infinity, The far field, the windy cliffs of forever, The dying of time in the white light of tomorrow, The wheel turning away from itself, The sprawl of the wave, The on-coming water.

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

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.

What is madness but nobility of soul at odds with circumstance?

Any fool can take a bad line out of a poem; it takes a real pro to throw out a good line.