For To Be Desperate Is To Discover

Try Making A Poem As If It Were A Table, Clear And Solid, Standing There Outside You.

There Are Some Griefs So Loud/they Could Bring Down The Sky/and There Are Griefs So Still/none Knows How Deep They Lie.

It Always Comes Back To The Same Necessity: Go Deep Enough And There Is A Bedrock Of Truth, However Hard.

I Am Not A Greedy Person Except About Flowers And Plants, And Then I Become Fanatically Greedy.

Everything That Slows Us Down And Forces Patience, Everything That Sets Us Back Into The Slow Circles Of Nature, Is A Help. Gardening Is An Instrument Of Grace.