Poetry is the language of intensity. Because we are going to die, an expression of intensity is justified.

Poetry seems especially like nothing else so much as itself. Poetry is not like, it is the very lining of the inner life.

The artistic reward for refuting the received national tradition is liberation. The price is homelessness. Interior exile.

I am suggesting that the radical of poetry lies not in theresolution of doubts but in their proliferation

If your desire for 'good' is based on greed, it is not good, but greed.

This story in my head is too hot to touch. I grabbed it anyway.

Sometimes what seems to be the ending of something is really the beginning of Everything.

To be alive to be able to see to walk ... it's all a miracle. I have adapted the technique of living life from miracle to miracle.

I know that sounds a little bit corny, but I've found some solace in that. I hope art can continue to do that for people, I really do.

It is amazing how, when all possibilities seem to be taken away from you, the minutest opening can become a great freedom.

Mostly, as I said, a desire to do a bit of good, and the quaint notion that this is what we signed up for, this is the business that we have chosen.

People only attack when they see weakness or when they think that someone is ashamed of it or embarrassed and they can't wait to stick it to 'em.

One can't paint New York as it is, but rather as it is felt.

Forgiveness is commendable, but apply not ointment to the wound of an oppressor.