I dropped my hoe and ran into the house and started to write this poem, 'End of Summer.’ It began as a celebration of wild geese. Eventually the geese flew out of the poem, but I like to think they… — Stanley Kunitz Copy Share Image
“Mind's acres are forever green: Oh, I Shall keep perpetual summer here; I shall Refuse to let one startled swallow die, Or, from the… — Stanley Kunitz Copy Share Image
Not that you need to be a saint to have visions worth talking about. The most effective prescription, I suspect, is to be a… — Stanley Kunitz Copy Share Image
I can hardly wait for tomorrow, it means a new life for me each and every day. — Stanley Kunitz Copy Share Image
One critic wrote . . . that my poems sounded as though they had been translated from the Hungarian. I don't know why, but… — Stanley Kunitz Copy Share Image
The heart breaks and breaks and lives by breaking it is necessary to go through dark and deeper dark and not to turn — Stanley Kunitz Copy Share Image
