Let Us Not Fear The Hidden. Or

I Am Haunted By Interrupted Acts, Introspective As A Leper, Enchanted By A Repulsive Clew, A Gross And Fugitive Movement Of The Limbs. Is This The Love That Shook The Lights To Flame?

If There Were No Poetry On Any Day In The World, Poetry Would Be Invented That Day. For There Would Be An Intolerable Hunger.

No One Wants To Read Poetry. You Have To Make It Impossible For Them To Put The Poem Down--impossible For Them To Stop Reading It, Word After Word. You Have To Keep Them From Closing The Book.

Exchange Is Creation.

We Sit Here, Very Different Each From The Other, Until The Passion Arrives To Give Us Our Equality, To Make Us Part Of The Play, To Make The Play Part Of Us.