“Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance.”

“Poetry is the journal of the sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air. Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable. Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.”

“Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.”

“I've written some poetry I don't understand myself”

“Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what was seen during a moment.”

“The single clenched fist lifted and ready,Or the open asking hand held out and waiting.Choose:For we meet by one or the other.”

“Once she had thrown a square of birch bark into the fire when her father came in the door. He might then have asked her why her quill pen had shaped a row of straight and crooked question marks and after each one an exclamation point--in rows of ten, perhaps forty running along--?! ?! ?! ?!--arranged in pairs or couples. If he had asked her what is this folderol and what can this nonsense mean she would have said the same she said when shaping them with her pen, one pair, one couple after another. "Each question mark stands for my ignorance and asks if I may learn and know the answer. And each exclamation point stands for my surprise at how little I know, my amazement at my vast ignorance, my utter astonishment at how much there is for me to learn.”