I think my poems immediately come out of the sensuous and emotional experiences I have.
I’ve begun to think like a Jew, to feel like a Jew.
Perfection is terrible; it cannot have children.
I want Books and Babies and Beef stews.
When you are insane, you are busy being insane – all the time.
Poetry at its best can do you a lot of harm.
I have a visual imagination.
One should be able to control and manipulate experiences with an informed and intelligent mind.
How we need another soul to cling to.
I am too pure for you or anyone.
I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad.
I talk to God but the sky is empty.
Is there no way out of the mind?
Poetry, I feel, is a tyrannical discipline. You’ve got to go so far so fast in such a small space; you’ve got to burn away all the peripherals.
What I want back is what I was.