There’s No Preparation For Poetry.

He Who Cannot Howl Will Not Find His Pack.

Here Is Something We Can All Count On. Sooner Or Later Our Tribe Always Comes To Ask Us To Agree To Murder.

If I Believe In Anything, It Is In The Dark Night Of The Soul. Awe Is My Religion, And Mystery Is Its Church.

Silence Is The Only Language God Speaks.

I Do Believe That A Poem Needs To Remind The Reader Of His Or Her Own Humanity, Of What They Are, Of What They're Capable Of. Awaken Them, In A Sense, To The Fact That There's A World In Front Of Their Eyes, That They Have A Body, They're Going To Die, The Sky Is Beautiful, It's Fun To Be In A Grassy Field When The Sun Is Shining—those Kinds Of Things.