The great stories go to those who aren't afraid to live them
Everyone in their car needs love.
Poetry is the language of intensity. Because we are going to die, an expression of intensity is justified.
Uniformity, in its motives, its goals, its far-ranging consequences, is the natural enemy of poetry, not to mention the enemy of trees, the soil, the exemplary life therein.
It is a function of poetry to locate those zones inside us that would be free, and declare them so.
Poetry takes you into the recesses of the language, the neglected corners, cracks and crannies and to the big sky of wonder. It opens the door to a critique without which you have rather boring analytical tools by comparison. To cultivate poetry means to stay with it. Not to abandon hope, but to abide.
One opinion I share with the Dadaists is that art-making presupposes a revolutionary state of mind. Assimilating the practice into commodity or symbol of status nullifies its fundamental aims; therefore at the center of my own adherence to to this ranginess in taste is that it doesn't add up to membership in a private club. The differences choose me. There are so many approaches, so many innovative moves, so many oddly shaped ears in the field; may they never sing in unison.
Suddenly you're the mom, or you go from. . . You're not an ingénue, you don't want to play an ingénue, but it's like that line in The First Wives Club [1996]: "There are only three ages for women in Hollywood: babe, district attorney, and Driving Miss Daisy. "
I'd love to be the first one to say this, but it automatically turns into - we all have those responsibilities that we ignore because we don't feel like they're ours.
You never know when you might be seeing someone for the last time.
Thank God, I also am an American!