How Slowly One Comes To Understand Anything!

Loneliness Is The Poverty Of Self; Solitude Is The Richness Of Self.

Go Rich In Poverty. Go Rich In Poetry. This Nothingness Is Plentitude.

Gardening Is An Instrument Of Grace.

Try Making A Poem As If It Were A Table, Clear And Solid, Standing There Outside You.

It Is, I Assume, Quite Easy To Wither Into Old Age, And Hard To Grow Into It.