Goodbye, you who are, for me, the postmarks again of shattered towns--Xenia, Burnt Cabins, Hornell-- their loneliness given away in poems, only their solitude kept.

It is necessary to reteach a thing its loveliness, to put a hand on its brow of the flower and retell it in words and in touch it is lovely until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing.

Go so deep into yourself, you speak for everyone.

I will find that special person who is wrong for me in just the right way.

Never mind. The self is the least of it. Let our scars fall in love.

To me, poetry is somebody standing up, so to speak, and saying, with as little concealment as possible, what it is for him or her to be on earth at this moment

The first step in the journey is to lose your way.

Turn on the dream you lived through the unwavering gaze. It is as you thought: the living burn. In the floating days may you discover grace.

I have always intended to live forever; but not until now, to live now.

Sometimes it is necessary To reteach a thing its loveliness

Let our scars fall in love.

One of the greatest discoveries you could actually discover in life is the treasure of solitude.

Nothing can last forever. There isn't any memory, no matter how intense, that doesn't fade out at last.

If we must play the theological game, let us never forget that it is a game. Religion, it seems to me, can survive only as a consciously accepted system of make-believe.

So there I was lying in the gutter. A man stopped and asked '"What's the matter? Did you fall over?" So I said "No. I've a bar of toffee in my back pocket and I was just trying to break it."

What rules the world is idea, because ideas define the way reality is perceived.

When you are a writer the assist-to-turnover ratio...there are a lot more turnovers than assists. It's just the nature of the beast.

Divine service, being the high contemplation of the mind, is at the same time, and pre-eminently, the peace, the sweetness and blessedness of the heart.

The single-player game is a strange mutant monster which has only existed for 21 years and is about to go away because it is unnatural and abnormal.

I loved to write; in my late teens I had a 'zine. But it wasn't until I went back to school, later on in my 20s, that I actually saw that I had writing talent.

I'm afraid when too many people know too much about you, it actually makes us all a lot more boring because you're afraid to express yourself.