When a man tells you that he got rich through hard work, ask him: ‘Whose?’
Sensation is amphibious: at the same time it joins us to and divides us from things. It is the door through which we enter into things but also through which we come out of them and realize that we are not things.
You go through the Civil Rights struggle, everybody knew the songs – ‘We shall overcome.’ Everybody would sing it. Music helped us. James Brown, ‘Say It Loud – I’m Black and I’m Proud.’ They helped black people figure out how to navigate what was a very treacherous place in America for them.
Old age is like a plane flying through a storm. Once you’re aboard, there’s nothing you can do.
If a man could pass through Paradise in a dream, and have a flower presented to him as a pledge that his soul had really been there, and if he found that flower in his hand when he awake – Aye, what then?
All my habits through life have been singularly removed from any condition of reliance on others, and the feeling – right or wrong – that aloneness is my proper position has prevailed since my early childhood, no doubt nourished and strengthened by many and quick-following bereavements.
I have the feeling that a lot of poets writing now are – they sort of tap dance through it.
Every individual ought to know at least one poet from cover to cover: if not as a guide through the world, then as a yardstick for the language.
Through machinery, man can exert tremendous powers almost as fantastic as if he were the hero of a fairy tale. Through machinery, man can travel with an ever increasing velocity; he can fly through the air and go beneath the surface of the ocean.
We are rich only through what we give, and poor only through what we refuse.