The pure products of America go crazy--mountain folk from Kentucky or the ribbed north end of Jersey with its isolate lakes and valleys, its deaf-mutes, thieves.

History must stay open, it is all humanity.

We sit and talk quietly, with long lapses of silence, and I am aware of the stream that has no language, coursing beneath the quiet heaven of your eyes, which has no speech.

As birds' wings beat the solid air without which none could fly so words freed by the imagination affirm reality by their flight.

But all art is sensual and poetry particularly so. It is directly, that is, of the senses, and since the senses do not exist without an object for their employment all art is necessarily objective. It doesn't declaim or explain, it presents.

No opinion can be trusted; even the facts may be nothing but a printer's error.

I think all writing is a disease. You can't stop it.