Revision Is Its Own Reward.

My Father Used To Say, "superior People Never Make Long Visits, Have To Be Shown Longfellows Grave, Or The Glass Flowers At Harvard."

Concurring Hands Divide Flax For Damask That When Bleached By Irish Weather Has The Silvered Chamois-leather Water-tightness Of A Skin.

I See No Reason For Calling My Work Poetry Except That There Is No Other Category In Which To Put It.

The Power Of The Visible Is The Invisible.

When You Take My Time, You Take Something I Had Meant To Use.