“Beauty is the result of realizing what is special about you and not focusing on the things you don’t like.”

I think my work has to do with a sense that we are attempting, all the time, to create a logical, rational path through the day. To the left and right there are an amazing set of distractions that we usually can’t afford to follow. But the poet is willing to stop anywhere.

The really authentic thing about humor is that anyone can pretend to be serious. Anyone who’s ever had a job – in fact, we’re pretending to be serious now, more or less.

But my heart is always propped up in a field on its tripod, ready for the next arrow.

Listeners are kind of ambushed… if a poem just happens to be said when they’re listening to the radio. The listener doesn’t have time to deploy what I call their ‘poetry deflector shields’ that were installed in high school – there’s little time to resist the poem.

It’s time to float on the waters of the night. Time to wrap my arms around this book and press it to my chest, life preserver in a seat of unremarkable men and women anonymous faces on the street, a hundred thousand unalphabitized things a million forgotten hours.

I always think W.S. Merwin’s poems will last of anyone writing today. If I had to bet on posterity I would bet Merwin.

The literary world is so full of pretension, and there’s such an enormous gap between how seriously poets take themselves and how widely they’re ignored by everybody else.

Every Day Is for the Thief is a vivid, episodic evocation of the truism that you can’t go home again; but that doesn’t mean you’re not free to try.

No one here likes a wet dog.

This love for everyday things, part natural from the wide eye of Infancy, part a literary calculation

When I wrote I took on the role of the despondent and difficult to understand person. Whereas in life, I was easy to understand, to the point of being simple-minded maybe.

I try to presume that no one is interested in me. And I think experience bears that out. No one’s interested in the experiences of a stranger – let’s put it that way. And then you have difficulty combined with presumptuousness, which is the most dire trouble with poetry.

I see woefully obscure poetry as simply a kind of verbal rudeness.

Poems are not easy to start, and they’re not easy to finish. There’s a great pleasure in – I wouldn’t say ease, but maybe kind of a fascinated ease that accompanies the actual writing of the poem. I find it very difficult to get started.

I was an only child, a very late child, born to parents who were both 39 at the time, which was very late back then. That kind of confirmed my sense of being the center of the universe, which I guess every child feels – children and poets both tend to feel.

A motto I’ve adopted is, if at first you don’t succeed, hide all evidence that you ever tried.

You know what the chain of command is? It’s the chain I go get and beat ya with until you realize who’s in ruttin’ command here!

It’s not that I want to be, but it’s a fascination of the mind and it plays a role in why I want to live my life a certain way.

The more I am aware of my mortality the better person I am and the better I am at choosing a life that is aware of its beauty.

All too often people concentrate on finding the right spouse, little realizing that half of any marriage is being the right spouse.

He is born in vain, who having attained the human birth, so difficult to get, does not attempt to realize God in this very life.

One must be very particular about telling the truth. Through truth one can realize God.

If you are convinced of God’s existence then it rests with you to seek Him, to see Him and to realize Him. Do not search for God outside of you. God can only be found within you, for His only abode is the heart.

Hearts don’t realize they’ve been lied to. They still love anyway.