But I pine in Solitude. Solitude is my undoing.

For this moment, this one moment, we are together. I press you to me. Come, pain, feed on me. Bury your fangs in my flesh. Tear me asunder. I sob, I sob.

I was always going to the bookcase for another sip of the divine specific.

And the poem, I think, is only your voice speaking.

When I cannot see words curling like rings of smoke round me I am in darkness—I am nothing.

Like" and "like" and "like"--but what is the thing that lies beneath the semblance of the thing?

The real novelist, the perfectly simple human being, could go on, indefinitely imaging.

I begin to long for some little language such as lovers use, broken words, inarticulate words, like the shuffling of feet on pavement.

When I am grown up I shall carry a notebook—a fat book with many pages, methodically lettered. I shall enter my phrases.

Death is woven in with the violets, ” said Louis. “Death and again death.”)

Among the tortures and devastations of life is this then—our friends are not able to finish their stories.

We seek salvation through religion. But more often than not, religion fills our head with hatred and empties our heart of love.

We must learn from life how to suffer it.

I want to go to a place where I can go to a football game, take off my shirt, paint my chest and major in beer.

Microsoft, by some accounts, the second most capitalized company on the planet, is the only corporate colossus in history whose entire product line could be eliminated with a giant magnet.

Hodgkin's is serious and I don't want to be dismissive about it, but there are people who have gone through much worse and lost their lives to cancer.

Sincerity, even if it speaks with a stutter, will sound eloquent when inspired.

I love movies. I mean, I really, really love movies.

I think the biggest obstacle I still have to overcome is myself, and just kind of struggling every day with what to do with the work and where to go next.

Hurry up Gene, I got a date tonight.

Someone with an obsession for arranging things in alphabetical order was an abcedist, whereas someone with an obsession for arranging them in reverse alphabetical order was a zyxedist.