I Want A Fever, In Poetry: A

There Are So Many Selves In Everybody, And Just To Explore And Exploit One Is Wrong, Dead Wrong, For The Creative Person.

A Poet Is Someone Who Stands Outside In The Rain Hoping To Be Struck By Lightning.

To Live A Very Long Time... Is Supposed To Be The Desired Object Of All Human Life. But It Is Not. The Main Thing Is To Ride The Flood Tide... How Glorious It Is To Create! For Those Few Moments Of A Lifetime When The Stream Is Running Full And Deep: Those Are The Justification For Everything.

Detachment Produces A Peculiar State Of Mind. Maybe That's The Worst Sentence Of All, To Be Deprived Of Feeling What A Human Being Ought To Be Entitled To Feel.

The New York Quarterly Is An Amazing, Intelligent, Crazy, Creative, Strange, And Indispensable Magazine.