I’ll always deny that I kissed her. I was just whispering into her mouth.

And the words we find are always insufficient, like love, though they are often lovely and all we have.

Although I know it's unfair, I reveal myself one mask at a time.

There are always the simple events of your life that you might try to convert into legend.

Better to be furious at one thing, become radiant with purpose. Better to love links and rhythms than all-embracing answers.

I will try to disappoint you better than anyone ever has.

Oh abstractions are just abstract until they have an ache in them.

exaggerated sunsets / splashed with rain, odd collisions / of roots, animals, seeds. / I didn't like a thing I saw, / so much effort to be strange.

I make myself up from everything I am, or could be. For many years I was more desire than fact. When I stop becoming, that’s when I worry.

Isn't there a curious elegance in how one moment passes into another?

I've tried to become someone else for a while, only to discover that he, too, was me.

Watch, how the sunslowly risesfrom behind my earnew lines, new countriesspring up in my palmsmy rough hairbecome swaying silkand all the leavesin my bodybecome lusher than fruits.

I promise, Matthias. I'll take you home.""Nina, " he said, pressing her hand to his heart. "I am already home.

I just think some women aren't made to be mothers. And some women aren't made to be daughters.

Fame is as much about luck as it is about talent, perhaps more.

When the world is ruled according to the Way, the ghosts lose their power. The ghosts do not really lose their power, but it is not used to harm people.

Today is a new day. Today is a day for you to begin creating a joyous, fulfilling life.

You ask me, 'What is the secret of remaining happy and married?'

Remember, most of us got something for nothing the first time just by showing up here at birth. Now we have to qualify.

You start out playing in kitchens, and you end up playing in kitchens.

For what is the program of the bourgeois parties? A bad poem on springtime, filled to bursting with metaphors.