Fromage and coffee and cognac and no gods.

New York is a field of tireless and antagonistic interests undoubtedly fascinating but horribly unreal. Everybody is looking at everybody else a foolish crowd walking on mirrors.

Frogs eat Butterflies, Snakes eat Frogs, Hogs eat Snakes, Men eat Hogs.

It has to be living, to learn the speech of the place, It has to face the man of the time.

The imagination is man's power over nature.

An old argument with me is that the true religious force in the world is not the church, but the world itself: the mysterious callings of Nature and our responses.

Poetry is a response to the daily necessity of getting the world right.