The form of a poem is invisible. A poem is not an "object." This is hard to accept in a mechanical age.

A man with a machine and inadequate culture is a pestilence.

Whether we and our politicians know it or not, Nature is party to all our deals and decisions, and she has more votes, a longer memory, and a sterner sense of justice than we do.

The incarnate Word is with us, is still speaking, is present always, yet leaves no sign but everything that is.

We can grow good wheat and make good bread only if we understand that we do not live by bread alone.

It is the man who can think of no alternative to his enslavement who is truly a slave.

The problems are our lives. In the "developed" countries, at least, the large problems occur because all of us are living either partly wrong or almost entirely wrong. It was not just the greed of corporate shareholders and the hubris of corporate executives that put the fate of Prince William Sound into one ship; it was also our demand that energy be cheap and plentiful.