What are days for?
Days are where we live.
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days?"

Deprivation is for me what daffodils were for Wordsworth.

"Far too many relied on the classic formula of a beginning, a muddle, and an end."

"Life has a practice of living you, if you don't live it."

I can't understand these chaps who go round American universities explaining how they write poems: It's like going round explaining how you sleep with your wife.