I Have Walked Through Many Lives, Some

We Have To Learn How To Live With Our Frailties. The Best People I Know Are Inadequate And Unashamed.

Poetry Today Is Easier To Write But Harder To Remember.

One Critic Wrote . . . That My Poems Sounded As Though They Had Been Translated From The Hungarian. I Don't Know Why, But Somehow That Made Me Feel Quite Lighthearted.

My Mother Never Forgave My Father

When They Shall Paint Our Sockets Gray And Light Us Like A Stinking Fuse, Remember That We Once Could Say, Yesterday We Had A World To Lose.