“In poetry, you must love the words, the ideas and the images and rhythms with all your capacity to love anything at all.”

“I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections Or the beauty of innuendos The blackbird whistling Or just after.”

“Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake.”

“Life is for the living. Death is for the dead. Let life be like music. And death a note unsaid.”

“Stephen kissed me in the spring, Robin in the fall, But Colin only looked at me And never kissed at all. Stephen’s kiss was lost in jest, Robin’s lost in play, But the kiss in Colin’s eyes H...”

“It is strange how often a heart must be broken Before the years can make it wise.”

“The poem must resist the intelligence Almost successfully.”

“The Long Hill I must have passed the crest a while ago And now I am going down-- Strange to have crossed the crest and not to know, But the brambles were always grabbing at the hem of my gow...”

“By daily dying, I have come to be.”