I have always thought of poems as stepping stones in one’s own sense of oneself. Every now and again, you write a poem that gives you self-respect and steadies your going a little bit farther out in the stream. At the same time, you have to conjure the next stepping stone because the stream, we hope, keeps flowing.
Being asked to describe what ‘post-racial’ means is a bit like being asked to describe a leprechaun, cold fusion or unicorns: we know what is meant, but, if we are willing to be honest, we also know that none of the four describe something real, something tangible, something true.
Pound’s translation of Chinese poetry was maybe the most important thing I read. Eliot a little bit later.
Deep feeling doesn’t make for good poetry. A way with language would be a bit of help.
There’s no such thing as second class citizenship. That’s like telling me you can be a little bit pregnant.
I’m not a huge soccer fan, but I follow the sport. I played in high school, a little bit in college, played on various club teams most of my life, and all three of my sons are competitive soccer players and far better than I ever was.
Societies advance through innovation every bit as much as economies do.
I was Chairman Mao’s dog. What he said to bite, I bit.
Men are every bit as gendered as women.
Nothing has been purchased more dearly than the little bit of reason and sense of freedom which now constitutes our pride.