Unless The Gentle Inherit The Earth, /

I Think That Passion If Really Intense Is Always Destructive If Not To The Two Involved, Always To Other People.

Try Making A Poem As If It Were A Table, Clear And Solid, Standing There Outside You.

For Me A True Poem Is On The Way When I Begin To Be Haunted, When It Seems As If I Were Being Asked An Inescapable Question By An Angel With Whom I Must Wrestle To Get At The Answer.

Making Order Out Of Disorder Any Time, Anywhere, Can Be Regarded As A Sacrament.

We Have To Believe That Every Person Counts, Counts As A Creative Force That Can Move Mountains.