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An owl sound wandered along the road with me. I didn't hear it--I breathed it into my ears.
William Stafford
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William Stafford
Age: 79 †
Born: 1914
Born: January 17
Died: 1993
Died: August 28
Author
Poet
Writer
Hutchinson
Kansas
Hear
Sound
Didn
Wandered
Owl
Breathed
Ears
Road
Along
More quotes by William Stafford
You were aimed from birth: you will never be alone... The whole wide world pours down.
William Stafford
The ocean and I have many pebbles To find and wash off and roll into shape.
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I'll be Pavlov, you be the dog.
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The earth says have a place, be what that place requires hear the sound the birds imply and see as deep as ridges go behind each other.
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I don't see writing as a communication of something already discovered, as truths already known. Rather, I see writing as a job of experiment. It's like any discovery job you don't know what's going to happen until you try it.
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The greatest ownership of all is to glance around and understand.
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What you have to do as a writer is . . . write day in and day out no matter what happens.
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Literature is not a picture of life, but is a separate experience with its own kind of flow and enhancement.
William Stafford
The signals we give-yes or no, or maybe-/should be clear/the darkness around us is deep.
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'Be alive,' the land says, 'listen - this is your time, your world, your pleasure.'
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When you allow me to live with you, every glance at the world around you will be a sort of salvation.
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Kids: they dance before they learn there is anything that isn't music.
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A poem is a serious joke, a truth that has learned jujitsu.
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You can lie at a banquet but you have to be honest in the kitchen.
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If you don't know the kind of person I am and I don't know the kind of person you are a pattern that others made may prevail in the world and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.
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It's love,' they say. You touch the right one and a whole half of the universe wakes up, a new half.
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Will you ever bring a better gift for the world than the breathing respect that you carry wherever you go right now?
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Even the upper end of the river believes in the ocean.
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A student comes to me with a piece of writing, holds it out, says, 'Is this good?' A whole sequence of emergencies goes off in my mind. That's not a question to ask anyone but yourself.
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The root and the flower have to trust each other. If the root does not trust, the plant won't blossom.
William Stafford
