When you have worked with people all day who have so little and struggle to make it stretch, who live outside the rarefied, you are humbled.
Maybe it's what we don't say/that saves us. - Dorianne Laux
Maybe it's what we don't say/that saves us.
- Dorianne Laux
Every good poem asks a question, and every good poet asks every question. - Dorianne Laux
Every good poem asks a question, and every good poet asks every question.
I don’t worry anymore about writing. There are times that I go through dry periods. I never go through a block. I’m always writing, but there are tim… - Dorianne Laux
I don’t worry anymore about writing. There are times that I go through dry periods. I never go through a block. I’m always writing, but there are tim…
A poem is like a child; at some point we have to let it go and trust that it will make its own way in the world. - Dorianne Laux
A poem is like a child; at some point we have to let it go and trust that it will make its own way in the world.
I write to invite the voices in, to watch the angel wrestle, to feel the devil gather on its haunches and rise. I write to hear myself breathing. I w… - Dorianne Laux
I write to invite the voices in, to watch the angel wrestle, to feel the devil gather on its haunches and rise. I write to hear myself breathing. I w…
Good writing works from a simple premise: your experience is not yours alone, but in some sense a metaphor for everyone's. - Dorianne Laux
Good writing works from a simple premise: your experience is not yours alone, but in some sense a metaphor for everyone's.
We're all writing out of a wound, and that's where our song comes from. The wound is singing. We're singing back to those who've been wounded. - Dorianne Laux
We're all writing out of a wound, and that's where our song comes from. The wound is singing. We're singing back to those who've been wounded.
That's how it is sometimes--God comes to your window, all bright light and black wings, and you're just too tired to open it. - Dorianne Laux
That's how it is sometimes--God comes to your window, all bright light and black wings, and you're just too tired to open it.
If trees could speak they wouldn't - Dorianne Laux
If trees could speak they wouldn't
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