Our claim to our own bodies and our world is our catastrophe.

The poet who writes "free" verse is like Robinson Crusoe on his desert island: he must do all his cooking, laundry and darning for himself. In a few exceptional cases, this manly independence produces something original and impressive, but more often the result is squalor - dirty sheets on the unmade bed and empty bottles on the unswept floor.

The closest modern equivalent to the Homeric hero is the ace fighter pilot.

The slogan of Hell: Eat or be eaten. The slogan of Heaven: Eat and be eaten.

Perhaps there is only one cardinal sin: impatience. Because of impatience we were driven out of Paradise, because of impatience we cannot return.

Human language is mythological and metaphorical by nature.

To be free is often to be lonely.