Quotes by Charles Olson

This morning of the small snow I count the blessings, the leak in the faucet which makes of the sink time, the drop of the water on water.

Whatever you have to say, leave the roots on, let them dangle, And the dirt, Just to make clear where they come from.

You don't help people in your poems. I've been trying to help people all my life - that's my trouble.

I don't live for poetry. I live far more than anybody else does.