If fame belonged to me, I could not escape her; if she did not, the longest day would pass me on the chase, and the approbation of my dog would forsake me then. My barefoot rank is better.
I didn’t learn much about writing at Sarah Lawrence, but I learned a lot about the sources of poems – dreams, myth, history – from the really great teachers, Joseph Campbell, Charles Trinkhaus, Bert Loewenberg, and a young Australian anthropologist named Harry Hawthorne.
They might not need me; but they might. I’ll let my head be just in sight; a smile as small as mine might be precisely their necessity.
A wounded deer leaps the highest.
People need hard times and oppression to develop psychic muscles.
I never had a mother. I suppose a mother is one to whom you hurry when you are troubled.
I wrote poetry off and on in high school, when I could manage to get out of gym classes and sports – using my allergies as an excuse – and climb the hill behind school till I found a nice place to settle down with a notebook and look at Spokane spread out below.
I’ve been enormously fortunate. People say, ‘How do you feel about your reputation?’ My real belief is that I have exactly the reputation I deserve… on the whole, I feel comfortable with myself.
I am growing handsome very fast indeed! I expect I shall be the belle of Amherst when I reach my 17th year. I don’t doubt that I shall have perfect crowds of admirers at that age. Then how I shall delight to make them await my bidding, and with what delight shall I witness their suspense while I make my final decision.
To love is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.