The poet, as everyone knows, must strike his individual note sometime between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five. He may read more

The poet, as everyone knows, must strike his individual note sometime between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five. He may hold it a long time, or a short time, but it is then that he must strike it or never. School and college have been conducted with the almost express purpose of keeping him busy with something else till the danger of his ever creating anything is past.

The poet... may be used as a barometer, but let us not forget that he is also part of the read more

The poet... may be used as a barometer, but let us not forget that he is also part of the weather.

With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.

With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.

From the mingled strength of shade and light
A new creation rises to my sight,
Such heav'nly read more

From the mingled strength of shade and light
A new creation rises to my sight,
Such heav'nly figures from his pencil flow,
So warm with light his blended colors glow.
. . . .
The glowing portraits, fresh from life, that bring
Home to our hearts the truth from which they spring.

I've been doing a lot of abstract painting lately, extremely abstract. No brush, no paint, no canvas, I just think read more

I've been doing a lot of abstract painting lately, extremely abstract. No brush, no paint, no canvas, I just think about it.

A poet dares be just so clear and no clearer... He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove read more

A poet dares be just so clear and no clearer... He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it. A poet utterly clear is a trifle glaring.

Poetry is the art of creating imaginary gardens with real toads.

Poetry is the art of creating imaginary gardens with real toads.

I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I read more

I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you for the part of me that you bring out.

The poet is in the end probably more afraid of the dogmatist who wants to extract the message from the read more

The poet is in the end probably more afraid of the dogmatist who wants to extract the message from the poem and throw the poem away than he is of the sentimentalist who says, "Oh, just let me enjoy the poem.".