“... Up telephone poles, Which rear, half out of leavageAs though they would shriekLike things smothered by their ownGreen, mindless, unkillable ghosts.In Georgia, the legend saysThat you must close...”

“In his mind he was always leaving, always going somewhere, always doing something else.”

“The women of the South have brought into American literature a unique mixture of domesticity and grotesquerie.”

“I want a fever, in poetry: a fever, and tranquillity.”

“I feel very happy to see the sun come up every day. I feel happy to be around. ... I like to take this day- any day-and go to town with it.”

“Flight is the only true sensation that men have achieved in modern history.”

“He wanted to be a poet,' someone else put in while Maggie hugged Tim and patted his back. 'Said he'd only lacked the words to be one.”

“I act as the tongue of you,... tied in your mouth . . . . in mine it begins to be loosened.”

“To be a poet is to have a soul so quick to discern, that no shade of quality escapes it, and so quick to feel, that discernment is but a hand playing with finely-ordered variety on the chords of em...”