Another lover hits the universe. The circle is broken. But with death comes rebirth. And like all lovers and sad people, I am a poet.

We're all golden sunflowers inside.

Which way will the sunflower turn surrounded by millions of suns?

Our heads are round so thought can change direction

To gain your own voice, forget about having it heard. Become a saint of your own province and your own consciousness.

To gain your own voice you have to forget about having it heard.

Concentrate on what you want to say to yourself and your friends. Follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness. You say what you want to say when you don't care who's listening.

Follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness.

I don't think there is any truth. There are only points of view.

None of us understand what we're doing, but we do beautiful things anyway.

When it snows in your nose, you catch cold in your brain.

We understood it was possible to know things one was not supposed to know…” Lone Walk From Panther Creek.

All I can tell you is that at the end, there's nothing left but love.

Here's to the man who rode the race, who took the time, who kept the time, and who did the trick.

When my mother was raising me, she moved us upstate to the Woodstock area. Our closest neighbor was a mile away. She planted all her own vegetables.

Envy is a horrible thing. It is unlike all other kinds of suffering in that there is no disguising it, no elevating it into tragedy. It is more than merely painful, it is disgusting.

Beneath every history, another history.

If I had to choose between the band or the friendships, I'd choose the friendships at this point.

Because I am a mother, I am capable of being shocked: as I never was when I was not one.

Sunk in the grass of an empty lot on a spring Saturday, I split the stems of milkweed and thought about ants and peach pits and death and where the world went when I closed my eyes.