A poem is a neutrino - mainly nothing - it has no mass and can pass through the earth undetected.

I have become an orchid washed in on the salt white beach. Memory, what can I make of it now that might please you- this life, already wasted and still strewn with miracles?

A poem is a finished work of the mind, it is not the work of a finished mind.

We are all one question, and the best answer seems to be love—a connection between things.

In life, the number of beginnings is exactly equal to the number of endings ... In poetry, the number of beginnings so far exceeds the number of endings that we cannot even conceive of it.

in the beginning William Shakespeare was a baby, and knew absolutely nothing. He couldn't even speak.

I'm lucky enough to occasionally be able to do something I love - write poems - and unlucky enough that what I love confuses and overwhelms me.

Art has always been aware of itself as art.

In our marginal existence, what else is there but this voice within us, this great weirdness we are always leaning forward to listen to?

In the end I would rather wonder than know

The origins of poetry are clearly rooted in obscurity, in secretiveness, in incantation, in spells that must at once invoke and protect, tell the secret and keep it.

After self-love the second best gift you could ever give yourself is self-discipline.

Stop setting yourself on fire for people who just stand to watch you burn.

We've put more effort into helping folks reach old age than into helping them enjoy it.

Best wishes for a great marathon. Be sure to savor it. The first marathon is something special. Run long and healthy.

When it comes to beauty, I'm all about lashes right now.

God has plans, not problems for our lives.

There is only one thing which interests me vitally now, and that is the recording of all that which is omitted in books

I can say, "I don't have anything I regret!" But I can also say, "I can go forward in my life the way it is and I don't think I'll accrue any future regrets."

In 1984, my mom gave birth to my older sister, Teresa. Due to a complicated delivery, she needed a blood transfusion, and at that moment, my mom had HIV+ blood put into her body.

Color transmits and translates emotion.