And so beneath the weight lay IAnd suffered death, but could not die.

After all, my erstwhile dear, My no longer cherished, Need we say it was not love, Just because it perished?

Am I kin to Sorrow, That so oftFalls the knocker of my door—Neither loud nor soft, But as long accustomed—Under Sorrow’s hand?

The decker these ***holes brought with them is top tier, but I'm going to stomp his jelly beans so hard his kids will be born crooked.

You don't see the world as it is, you see it, as you are.

The messages must be stuck somewhere in the tube of light underneath the ocean that connects London and New York.

There was a kindliness about intoxication - there was that indescribable gloss and glamour it gave, like the memories of ephemeral and faded evenings.

If your partner wants to be private, you have to respect that.

Some indeed there are who profess to despise all flattery, but even these are nevertheless to be flattered, by being told that they do despise it.

My culinary wardrobe is the same as my biking wardrobe, just no shoes.

I have never given all of myself, even vocally, to anyone. I was taught to sing on your interest, not your capital.

The bright dawn flooded the room, and swept the fantastic shadows into dusky corners, where they lay shuddering.

Every moment you are different because you are not-- and unless you are, the divine cannot happen to you. To whom can it happen? You are not there.