Write whatever you like!
Even if the hopes you started out with are dashed, hope has to be maintained.
The fact of the matter is that the most unexpected and miraculous thing in my life was the arrival in it of poetry itself - as a vocation and an elevation almost.
I credit poetry for making this space-walk possible.
In fact, in lyric poetry, truthfulness becomes recognizable as a ring of truth within the medium itself.
In my early teens, I acquired a kind of representative status: went on behalf of the family to wakes and funerals and so on. And I would be counted on as an adult contributor when it came to farm work - the hay in the summertime, for example.
Your temperament is what you write with, but it's also how you deal with the world.
Memory has always been fundamental for me. In fact, remembering what I had forgotten is the way most of the poems get started.
Every time you read a poem aloud to yourself in the presence of others, you are reading it into yourself and them. Voice helps to carry words farther and deeper than the eye.
When I first encountered the name of the city of Stockholm, I little thought that I would ever visit it, never mind end up being welcomed to it as a guest of the Swedish Academy and the Nobel Foundation.
Anyone born and bred in Northern Ireland can't be too optimistic.
It's difficult to learn poems off by heart that don't rhyme.
My language and my sensibility are yearning to admit a kind of religious or transcendent dimension. But then there's the reality: there's no Heaven, no afterlife of the sort we were promised, and no personal God.
Nowadays, what an award gives is a sense of solidarity with the poetry guild, as it were: sustenance coming from the assent of your peers on the judging panel.
As writers and readers, as sinners and citizens, our realism and our aesthetic sense make us wary of crediting the positive note.
I spend almost every morning with mail.
I've always associated the moment of writing with a moment of lift, of joy, of unexpected reward.
My father was a creature of the archaic world, really. He would have been entirely at home in a Gaelic hill-fort. His side of the family, and the houses I associate with his side of the family, belonged to a traditional rural Ireland.
I've been in the habit of helping people.
I've said it before about the Nobel Prize: it's like being struck by a more or less benign avalanche. It was unexpected, unlooked for, and extraordinary.
The problem as you get older... is that you become more self-aware. At the same time, you have to surprise yourself. There's no way of arranging the surprise, so it is tricky.
I'm a firm believer in learning by heart.
Eternal life can mean utter reverence for life itself.
My experience is that prose usually equals duty - last minute, overdue-deadline stuff or a panic lecture to be written.
Since I was a schoolboy, I've been used to being recognized on the road by old and young, and being bantered with and, indeed, being taunted.
But that citizen's perception was also at one with the truth in recognizing that the very brutality of the means by which the IRA were pursuing change was destructive of the trust upon which new possibilities would have to be based.
My passport's green.
Tom Sleigh's poetry is hard-earned and well founded. I great admire the way it refuses to cut emotional corners and yet achieves a sense of lyric absolution.
You can have Irish identity in the north and also have your Irish passport.
Poetry is what we do to break bread with the dead.
I think the first little jolt I got was reading Gerard Manley Hopkins - I liked other poems... but Hopkins was kind of electric for me - he changed the rules with speech, and the whole intensity of the language was there and so on.
The Ireland I now inhabit is one that these Irish contemporaries have helped to imagine.
I think of the bog as a feminine goddess-ridden ground, rather like the territory of Ireland itself.