Intimacy can only be shared between those who love. It cannot be summarized. Intimacy lives in silence.

It wanted to turn, the stern rocking around to the front, taking the place of the bow, the bow to the stern, port to starboard

The orchid book says to stop watering right before you think it’s enough, which doesn’t help much

Frank Bidart tells us he came the closest to finding himself in his own poetry—and even then, not really.

In Christian Wiman's new book, all easy answers about how spirituality informs the arts and vice versa are given fierce interrogation.

I see them lining up for slaughter,/ Judas at the head of the pack/ grunting his way to survival, while my/ pigs do not stand a chance, doomed creatures/ that they are, and it’s a good thing.