I'm a total bottoms-up kind of person. I like things to bubble up.

Most people are trying to go digital, and trying to do different things with poetry. McSweeney's is going in the opposite direction - going more classic, and retro, which is all coming back.

I was sort of obsessed about corporate people committing suicide.

Sometimes I feel like I'm on top of the world, and other mornings I feel like crap.

I can't help but go against the grain, I suppose it is in my fabric to be a rule-breaker.

I am always reading, always, and tons of things at once. I wouldn't say I'm a voracious reader, though. I never finish books that fast, because I'm always reading so many things at once.

I think my way of being "funny" is just saying things that people think but have learned not to say, whereas, I haven't learned not to say them.

There's an attraction to emotional clusters or hypocrisies or awkwardness. A desire to expose something or point at something that's already poking out.

I feel like I give myself all day long to other people and other things, and I still seem like I have something to write once in awhile. Not often, though.

I think I've always felt very isolated, and I'm sure lots of poets do.

I think e-mail and social media and all that has made me feel way less isolated than ever before.

All you have to do, I tell myself, is keep your mouth shut and look stupid. It shouldn't be that hard.

With God life is an endless hope. Without God, life is a hopeless end.

If you lead, you will eventually serve with Judas or Peter.

Socialism is a monster which will die.

Eating has always come up whenever and wherever. Maybe it's because we're girls, we have a lot of interest in eating.

The Hacker Way is an approach to building that involves continuous improvement and iteration. Hackers believe that something can always be better, and that nothing is ever complete.

Global market forces will sort out those companies that do not have sound corporate governance.

Superstition is, always has been, and forever will be, the foe of progress, the enemy of education and the assassin of freedom.

Tupac the son of the Black Panther, and Tupac the rider. Those are the two people inside of me. I was raised off those ideals.

The sweet calm sunshine of October, now Warms the low spot; upon its grassy mold The pur0ple oak-leaf falls; the birchen bough drops its bright spoil like arrow-heads of gold.