It's funny, but certain faces seem to go in and out of style. You look at old photographs and everybody has a certain look to them, almost as if they're related. Look at pictures from ten years later and you can see that there's a new kind of face starting to predominate, and that the old faces are fading away and vanishing, never to be seen again.

I never have searched for a subject. They always just come along. They never come by way of decision-making. They just haunt me. I can't get rid of them. I did not invite them.

Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

Great buildings that move the spirit have always been rare. In every case they are unique, poetic, products of the heart.

For now, poetry has the capacity - in its own ways and by its own means - to remind us of something we are forbidden to see.

Few sensible authors are happy discussing the creative process--it is, after all, black magic.