Jack Gilbert — American Poet born on February 18, 1925, died on November 13, 2012

Jack Gilbert was an American poet... (wikipedia)

You can't work in a steel mill and think small. Giant converters hundreds of feet high. Every night, the sky looked enormous. It was a torrent of flames - of fire. The place that Pittsburgh used to be had such scale.
Fame is a lot of fun, but it's not interesting. I loved being noticed and praised, even the banquets. But they didn't have anything that I wanted. After about six months, I found it boring.
I'm vain enough to think that I've made a successful life. I've had everything I've ever wanted. You can't beat that.
I had lived all of my youthful dreams, but I couldn't think of many adult ones. I finally realized that we don't have many dreams for adults because, historically, people have always died much younger than they do today.

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