Literature Is Achieved Anxiety.

A Superb And Dreadfully Moving Account Of The Glory And Subsequent Murder By The Romanians Of The Jewish City In Odessa. . . . Odessa Is Both Celebration And Lament And Equally Impressive As Both.

It Is Hard To Go On Living Without Some Hope Of Encountering The Extraordinary.

People Cannot Stand The Saddest Truth I Know About The Very Nature Of Reading And Writing Imaginative Literature, Which Is That Poetry Does Not Teach Us How To Talk To Other People: It Teaches Us How To Talk To Ourselves. What I'm Desperately Trying To Do Is To Get Students To Talk To Themselves As Though They Are Indeed Themselves, And Not Someone Else.

Sometimes One Succeeds, Sometimes One Fails.

To Be A Poet Did Not Occur To Me. It Was Indeed A Threshold Guarded By Demons.