Quotes by : Mark Strand

From the shadow of domes in the city of domes,A snowflake, a blizzard of one, weightless, entered your....

The HillI have come this far on my own legs,missing the bus, missing taxis,climbing always. One foot....

No voice comes from outer space, from the folds of dust and carpets of wind to tell us that this is the....

                And into the close and mirrored catacombs of sleepWe'll fall, and there in the....

Usually a life turned into a poem is misrepresented.

It's very hard to write humor.

Even this late it happens:the coming of love, the coming of light.

Pain is filtered in a poem so that it becomes finally, in the end, pleasure.

Sometimes he did not know if he slept or just thought about sleep.

These wrinkles are nothingThese gray hairs are nothing,This stomach which sagswith old food, these bruisedand....