Just be yourself. Be honest, work towards a goal, and you'll achieve it.
The summer demands and takes away too much. But night, the reserved, the reticent, gives more than it takes
Poetry comes to me out of thin air or out of my unconscious mind. It's sort of the way dreams come to us and the way that we get knowledge from them, through television, old movies, which I watch a lot of. Lines of dialogue suddenly seem to be part of a poem.
The soul is not a soul, Has no secret, is small, and it fits Its hollow perfectly: its room, our moment of attention.
I always thought that writing poetry was in itself a political act.
And we may be led, then, upward through more Powerful forms of poetry, past columns With peeling posters on them, to the country of indifference. Meanwhile if the swell diapasons, blooms Unhappily and too soon, the little people are nonetheless real.
I feel that poetry is going on all the time inside, an underground stream.
I have to remind myself, Stop thinking about the future. Stop thinking about what happened at work today, or another choice you could have made. Just be with your kids. Just be with your friends. Enjoy your victories. Stop second-guessing things that have already happened.
True karate is this: that in daily life one's mind and body be trained and developed in a spirit of humility, and that in critical times, one be devoted utterly to the cause of justice.
If the colleges were better, if they. . . had the power of imparting valuable thought, creative principles, truths which become powers, thoughts which become talents, - if they could cause that a mind not profound should become profound, - we should all rush to their gates: instead of contriving inducements to draw students, you would need to set police at the gates to keep order in the in-rushing multitude.
I don't like English bands. They're too structured.