Pain Can Make A Whole Winter Bright,

Poetry Is First Of All A Way Of Life And Only Secondarily A Way Of Writing.

The Garden Is Growth And Change And That Means Loss As Well As Constant New Treasures To Make Up For A Few Disasters.

Whatever Peace I Know Rests In The Natural World, In Feeling Myself A Part Of It, Even In A Small Way.

Unless The Gentle Inherit The Earth, / There Will Be No Earth.

Poetry Has A Way Of Teaching One What One Needs To Know ... If One Is Honest.