Every afternoon, I shut the door of my bedroom to write: Poetry was secret, dangerous, wicked and delicious. Donald Hall afternoonbedroomdangerous Change image and share on social
It is sensible of me to be aware that I will die one of these days. I will not 'pass away.' Donald Hall awaredaydie Change image and share on social
Some days I feel good about my work, and sometimes I feel I've never written anything worthwhile. That's par for the course. Donald Hall dayfeelgood Change image and share on social
In December of 1952, my first wife, Kirby, and I left Vienna to drive through the Russian sector of Austria into Yugoslavia. Donald Hall austriadecemberdrive Change image and share on social
Both my New Hampshire great-grandfathers wore facial hair: the Copperhead who fought in the war and the sheep farmer too old for combat. Donald Hall combatcopperheadfacial Change image and share on social
I grew up in the suburbs of Connecticut - during the school time of year - but I preferred it in New Hampshire. I preferred the culture, the landscape, the relative solitude. I've always loved it. Donald Hall connecticutculturegrow Change image and share on social
I expect my immortality will last about six seconds after my funeral. Donald Hall expectfuneralimmortality Change image and share on social
I have seen so many poets who were famous, who won all sorts of prizes, disappear with their death. I write as good as I can and don't try to turn that into some hope for a future that I could never know. Donald Hall deathdisappearfamous share on social
Friends die, friends become demented, friends quarrel, friends drift with old age into silence. Donald Hall agedementeddie Change image and share on social
