No partner in a love relationship... should feel that he has to give ...

No partner in a love relationship... should feel that he has to give up an essential part of himself to make it viable.

a poet never feels useful.

We only keep what we lose.

Love is our human miracle.

Excellence costs a great deal.

Fighting dragons is my holy joy.

Time unbounded is hard to handle.

What can I have that I still want?

Gardening is an instrument of grace.

One of the springs of poetry is joy.

Gardening is the instrument of grace.

True power is given to the vulnerable.

Time spent with poets is never wasted.

Absence becomes the greatest Presence.

Fire is a good companion for the mind.

Women's work is always toward wholeness.

... love is healing, even rootless love.

Light is snow sifted / To an abstraction.

Where joy in an old pencil is not absurd.

life is always bringing unexpected gifts.

In the country of pain we are each alone.

So let the world go, but hold fast to joy.

They are commiting murder who merely live.

It feels a long way up and down from zero.

People who cannot feel punish those who do.

True feeling justifies whatever it may cost.

A good marriage shuts out a very great deal.

Most people have to talk so they won't hear.

How slowly one comes to understand anything!

Your poems will happen when no one is there.

when I am working I immediately feel hopeful.

Do not deprive me of my age. I have earned it.

For after all we make our faces as we go along.

Mountains define you. You cannot define / Them.

Solitude is one thing and loneliness is another.

It takes a long time for words to become thought.

Without anxiety life would have very little savor.

About loving, I have little to learn from the young.

If art is not to be life-enhancing, what is it to be?

Inside my mother's death / I lay and could not breathe.

instant intimacy was too often followed by disillusion.

At any moment solitude may put on the face of loneliness.

When it comes to the important things one is always alone.

For art is order, but it is born out of the chaos of life.

Do we always make our freedom out of someone else's bondage?

Routine is not a prison, but the way into freedom from time.

Now I become myself. It’s taken time, many years and places.

The more articulate one is, the more dangerous words become.

Though friendship is not quick to burn it is explosive stuff.

I tell the gods are still alive / And they are not consoling.

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