I'm A Bad Jew, A Bad Russian,

When I'm Not Writing Or Reading, I'm Thinking About Both.

At Certain Periods Of History It Is Only Poetry That Is Capable Of Dealing With Reality By Condensing It Into Something Graspable, Something That Otherwise Wouldn't Be Retained By The Mind.

The Eye Identifies Itself Not With The Body It Belongs To But With The Object Of Its Attention.

How Delightful To Find A Friend In Everyone.

I Was Quite Happy In Arkhangelsk.subsequently, I Was Sent To A Village. I Liked It In Its Own Way Because It Sounded To Me Very Much Like The Tradition Of A Hired Man In Any World-class Poem. That's What I Was, A Hired Man. I Was Working For A Collective Farm.