The Trees Are Coming Into

I Don't Think I Write Well - Just Better Than Anyone Else.

I Wouldn't Mind Seeing China If I Could Come Back The Same Day.

The Way The Moon Dashes Through Clouds That Blow Loosely As Cannon-smoke... Is A Reminder Of The Strength And Pain Of Being Young; That It Can't Come Again, But Is For Others Undiminished Somewhere.

Novels Seem To Me To Be Richer, Broader, Deeper, More Enjoyable Than Poems.

I Can't Understand These Chaps Who Go Round American Universities Explaining How They Write Poems: It's Like Going Round Explaining How You Sleep With Your Wife.