“In the fifties… we were so busy being cool that we didn’t know how to say the word love”

“More or Less Love Poems #11:No babeWe'd neverSwing together butthe syncopationwould be something wild”

“It is still news to her that passioncould steer her wrongthough she went down, a thousand timesstrung outacross railroad tracks, off bridgesunder cars, or stiffglass bottle still in hand, hair softon greasy pillows, still it isnews she cannot follow love (hisburning footsteps in blue crystalsnow) & stillcome out all right.”

“The only war is the war against the imagination.”

“With good reason, love's messengers, Eros and Kama, are armed with bows and long-distance arrows. No being, god or mortal, can choose love. Love comes despite ourselves; and then, if we have not already done so, we have the task of becoming our selves so we may welcome love.”

“Metaphor isn't just decorative language. If it were, it wouldn't scare us so much. . . . Colorful language threatens some people, who associate it, I think, with a kind of eroticism (playing with language in public = playing with yourself), and with extra expense (having to sense or feel more). I don't share that opinion. Why reduce life to a monotone? Is that truer to the experience of being alive? I don't think so. It robs us of life's many textures. Language provides an abundance of words to keep us company on our travels. But we're losing words at a reckless pace, the national vocabulary is shrinking. Most Americans use only several hundred words or so. Frugality has its place, but not in the larder of language. We rely on words to help us detail how we feel, what we once felt, what we can feel. When the blood drains out of language, one's experience of life weakens and grows pale. It's not simply a dumbing down, but a numbing.”

“Always remember that you are unique. Just like everybody else.”