Just looking at them I grow greedy, as if they were freshly baked loaves waiting on their shelves to be broken open--that one and that--and I make my…

- Linda Pastan

There are poems that are never written, that simply move across the mind like skywriting on a still day: slowly the first word drifts west, t…

- Linda Pastan

I am tired of the litany of months, September October I am tired of the way the seasons keep changing, mimicking the seasons of the flesh w…

- Linda Pastan

Evil is simply a grammatical error: a failure to leap the precipice between "he" and "I.

- Linda Pastan

Grief is a circular staircase.

- Linda Pastan

What we want is never simple.

- Linda Pastan

What we want is never simple. We move among the things we thought we wanted: a face, a room, an open book and these things bear our names - now…

- Linda Pastan

Spring is the shortest season.

- Linda Pastan

I have dreamed of our bed as if it were a shore where we would be washed up, not this striped mattress we must cover with sheets. [from "After an Abs…

- Linda Pastan