I desired always to stretch the night and fill it fuller and fuller with dreams.

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.

But I pine in Solitude. Solitude is my undoing.

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.”)

Women have face-lifts in a society in which women without them appear to vanish from sight.

Everyone has a button for sadness and a button for happiness, your condition depends on which one you push the most.

Maturity understands that there’s darkness in the world but that there’s no need to dwell in it: we can lighten up and offer illumination to others.

He looked different in sleep, beautiful but cold as moonlight.

Whenever there is chaos it creates wonderful thinking. I consider chaos a gift.

One of the perks of my job as a fashion journalist is the travel opportunity.

I've never been a hands-on dad. I'm not ashamed to admit it, but you can't run a restaurant and be home for tea at 4:30 and bath and change nappies.

As grateful as we are for all the work the community health centers do, it is also important that we recognize that they cannot solve the health care crisis facing our Nation by themselves.

Floating in a lake, lying in a hammock, playing a bit of Scrabble...that's what I'm in need of.

Love’s easy. It kind of comes with the territory. But liking is another story.