From what we cannot hold the stars are made.

Separation Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.

Your absence has gone through me

come back believer in shade believer in silence and elegance believer in ferns believer in patience believer in the rain

On the last day of the world I would want to plant a tree

We are asleep with compasses in our hands.

I say to my breath once again, little breath come from in front of me, go away behind me, row me quietly now, as far as you can, for I am an abyss that I am trying to cross.

Poetry is a way of looking at the world for the first time.

The story of each stone leads back to a mountain.

Now all my teachers are dead except silence.

I have with me all that I do not knowI have lost none of it.

The things you think are the disasters in your life are not the disasters really. Almost anything can be turned around: out of every ditch, a path, if you can only see it.

Look to the Lord in every situation.

May God bless your journey on earth!

I give no sources, because it is indifferent to mewhether what I have thought has already beenthought before me by another.

To the artist there is never anything ugly in nature.

Most of the bright people don't work for you - no matter who you are.

If you use a poor headline, it does not matter how hard you labor over your copy because your copy will not be read.

Much of my writing is energized by unresolved memories - something like ghosts in the psychological sense.

The media should be embarrassed and humiliated and keep its mouth shut and just listen for a while.

With a limited palette, the older painters could do just as well as today what they did was sounder.