“As the rain fallsso doesyour lovebathe everyopenobject of the world”

“Writing is not a searching about in the daily experience for apt similes and pretty thoughts and images… It is not a conscious recording of the day’s experiences ‘freshly and with the appearance of reality’… The writer of imagination would find himself released from observing things for the purpose of writing them down later. He would be there to enjoy, to taste, to engage the free world, not a world which he carries like a bag of food, always fearful lest he drop something or someone get more than he.”

“Lifeless in appearance, sluggishdazed spring approaches-They enter the new world naked,cold, uncertain of allsave that they enter. All about themthe cold, familiar wind-Now the grass, tomorrowthe stiff curl of wildcarrot leafOne by one objects are defined-It quickens: clarity, outline of leafBut now the stark dignity ofentrance-Still, the profound changehas come upon them: rooted, theygrip down and begin to awaken”

“Fools have big wombs.”

“It is difficultto get the news from poems yet men die miserably every day for lackof what is found there.”

“It is at the edge of the petal that love waits”

“This is Just to Say I have eatenthe plumsthat were inthe iceboxand whichyou were probablysavingfor breakfastForgive methey were deliciousso sweetand so cold”