I couldn't see myself filling some definite niche in what is called a career. This was all misty.
I fell in love, not deep, but I fell several times and then fell out.
There was always the consolation that if I didn't like what I wrote I could throw it away or burn it.
Where was I going? I puzzled and wondered about it til I actually enjoyed the puzzlement and wondering.
There is no song to your singing.
What else have I done nearly all my life than go hungry and go on singing?
I am! I have come through! I belong!
And all poets love dust and mist because all the last answers. Go running back to dust and mist.
The marvelous rebellion of man at all signs reading "Keep Off.
I have written some poetry that I don't understand myself.
There are ten men in me and I do not know or understand one of them.
The people will live on.The learning and blundering people will live on.
Time is a great teacher, Who can live without hope?
We live in the time of the colossal upright oblong.
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