Maybe lurking in my unconscious was the idea that when someone's collected poems are published it means that the poet is dead. I found myself looking at my work as if I were at my own funeral.

Take care of things close to home first. Straighten up your room before you save the world. Then save the world.

It is not easy writing someone a postcard. The size and shape of the card cut you down to size.

Not everyone is at the top of his or her game all the time - you can't be.

So writing about love or having it infuse the poems that I'm writing has never been something I've set myself to do, except when I write a poem for my wife, for an occasion, such as our anniversary.

I don't do much of anything consciously in writing - in poetry writing, anyway, prose usually being a different matter, of course.

It seems more than likely that the translating of poetry is going to rub off on the translator if he or she is a poet.

Collaborating with someone who doesn't understand your language nor you theirs stretches you open even wider, into a sort of very large free fall.

God is my salvation.

I hadn't even solved the mystery of my own body.

Don’t wait for a genie to grant your wishes. That power is yours.

Death is the great equalizer

Worrying about dying will hardly help you live.

Habitually creative people are prepared to be lucky.

When everything is at risk, good judgment, not haste, makes the difference between life and death. Panic is the enemy.

Making a comeback is one of the most difficult things to do with dignity.

Dear brothers and sisters, the Church loves you! Be an active presence in the community, as living cells, as living stones.

When people say they are looking for happiness, I ask, What are you giving to the world?