Any knowledge that doesn't lead to new questions quickly dies out: it fails to maintain the temperature required for sustaining life.
Nothing can ever happen twice. In consequence, the sorry fact is that we arrive here improvised and leave without the chance to practice.
Let the people who never find true love keep saying that there's no such thing. Their faith will make it easier for them to live and die.
I like being near the top of a mountain. One can't get lost here.
You can find the entire cosmos lurking in its least remarkable objects.
Life lasts but a few scratches of the claw in the sand.
In the language of poetry, where every word is weighed, nothing is usual or normal. Not a single stone and not a single cloud above it. Not a single day and not a single night after it. And above all, not a single existence, not anyone's existence in this world.
Somewhere out there the world must have an end.
In every tragedy, an element of comedy is preserved. Comedy is just tragedy reversed.
Every beginning is only a sequel, after all, and the book of events is always open halfway through.
After every war someone has to tidy up.
It's just not easy to explain to someone else what you don't understand yourself.
Keep up the good work, if only for a while, if only for the twinkling of a tiny galaxy.
I've reached the age of self-knowledge, so I don't know anything. People who claim that they know something are responsible for most of the fuss in the world.
Each of us has a very rich nature and can look at things objectively, from a distance, and at the same time can have something more personal to say about them. I am trying to look at the world, and at myself, from many different points of view. I think many poets have this duality.
Generally speaking, life is so rich and full of variety; you have to remember all the time that there is a comical side to everything.
All the best have something in common, a regard for reality, an agreement to its primacy over the imagination.
All is mine but nothing owned, nothing owned for memory, and mine only while I look.
Unfortunately, poetry is not born in noise, in crowds, or on a bus. There have to be four walls and the certainty that the telephone will not ring. That's what writing is all about.
I have sympathy for young people, for their growing pains, but I balk when these growing pains are pushed into the foreground, when you make these young people the only vehicles of life's wisdom.
