rush of pine scent (once upon a time), the unlicensed conviction there ought to be another way of saying this.

Only truthful hands write true poems. I cannot see any basic difference between a handshake and a poem.

Only one thing remained reachable, close and secure amid all losses: language. Yes, language. In spite of everything, it remained secure against loss.

A nothing we were, are, shall remain, flowering: the nothing--, the no one's rose.

Reality is not simply there, it does not simply exist: it must be sought out and won.

Poetry is a sort of homecoming.

The poem is lonely. It is lonely and en route. Its author stays with it. Does this very fact not place the poem already here, at its inception, in the encounter, in the mystery of encounter?

Don't sign your name between worlds, surmount the manifold of meanings, trust the tearstain, learn to live.

There's nothing in the world for which a poet will give up writing, not even he is a Jew and the language of his poems is German.

We are told that when Hölderlin went 'mad,' he constantly repeated, 'Nothing is happening to me, nothing is happening to me.'

German poetry is going in a very different direction from French poetry.... Its language has become more sober, more factual. It distrusts "beauty." It tries to be truthful.

She shared how she had fi nally found God, not in the back of a church with hands held in prayer, but in the back of a police car with hands held in cuffs.

Somehow, it bothered her watching Garth’s charm directed so effectively at another. Could he convince her so easily of an untruth?

The Holy Scripture is like a diamond: in the dark it is like a piece of glass, but as soon as the light strikes it the water begins to sparkle, and the scintillation of life greets us.

It is necessary to help others, not only in our prayers, but in our daily lives. If we find we cannot help others, the least we can do is to desist from harming them.

Hiring someone to write your autobiography is like hiring someone to take a bath for you

A movie is like a person. Either you trust it or you don't.

You can't be a revolutionary, you can't want to change society if you don't love people, there's no point in it.

Because of their enmity you will be left alone. They will cast you out and forsake you.

Seeing, hearing, feeling, are miracles, and each part and tag of me is a miracle.

Be merry; you have cause, so have we all, of joy; for our escape is much beyond our loss . . . . then wisely weigh our sorrow with our comfort.