"Ah, when to the heart of man Was it ever less than a treason To go with the drift of things, To yield with a grace to reason, And bow and accept the end Of a love or a season?"
"But yield who will to their separation, My object in living is to uniteMy avocation and my vocationAs my two eyes make one in sight."
"Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on TheeAnd I'll forgive Thy great big one on me."
"A poem begins with a lump in the throat; a homesickness or a love sickness. It is a reaching-out toward expression; an effort to find fulfillment. A complete poem is one where an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words."
"Home is the place where, when you have to go there, They have to take you in."
"There are two kinds of teachers: the kind that fill you with so much quail shot that you can't move, and the kind that just gives you a little prod behind and you jump to the skies."