A poet looks at the world the way a man looks at a woman.
Accuracy of observation is the equivalent of accuracy of thinking.
It is necessary to any originality to have the courage to be an amateur.
Imagination is the will of things. . . .
The leaves hop, scraping on the ground. It is deep January. The sky is hard. The stalks are firmly rooted in ice. It is in this solitude, a syllable, Out of these gawky flitterings, Intones its single emptiness, The savagest hollow of winter-sound.
It gives a man character as a poet to have a daily contact with a job. I doubt whether I've lost a thing by leading an exceedingly regular and disciplined life.