I write very rarely. Only, in fact, when the sheet of paper suffers an existential crisis and threatens, if I don't surrender to it, to bury me alive under its whiteness.

If anything needs love it is reality, for it is reality that lacks it the most - I doubt that it was ever loved.

All that we are and all that we've ever felt, words have felt it first.

You are walking in a desert.You hear a bird singing.As absurd as it may seem for a bird to be pending in the desert,you are obligated to make it a tree.That's poem

Love grows by not giving to us. And if our passion for poetry lives on and persists, it is because poetry offers us only its bits of lint.

I've grown extremely tired of the face of the world.

Life's essential length is only a few pages long, as succinct as a line of verse and as brief as the title of a poem.

I don't aspire, but I would be very happy if one of my poems suddenly offered someone a shady rest stop, a breather in our interminable march under the murderous, scorching heat of the superfluous.

Poetry contains love and holds it in high esteem, even though love always humiliates it by using it merely as a soothing after-shave lotion.

What I try to do is to keep emotion on a tight leash; otherwise, it can never be transubstantiated into poetry.

Poetry relishes ripe fruit - but ripe is one thing and overripe quite another. That's something poetry doesn't like, so it couldn't care less if I were to fall overripe to the ground.

And many false prophets shall rise, and shall deceive many.

There is nothing quite so comforting like being part of a community.

There is nothing to winning, really. That is, if you happen to be blessed with a keen eye, an agile mind, and no scruples whatsoever.

I will not let you go into the unknown alone.

This is my temporary home It's not where I belong Windows and rooms that I'm passing through This is just a stop, on the way to where I'm going I'm not afraid because I know this is my Temporary home

All you need is a pool table, beer, an electric jukebox and good conversation. The day a girl beats me in a game of Beirut [a kind of beer pong] is a good sign!

The era of empty talk is over. Now is the time for action.

After all, is football a game or a religion?

The wind at Candlestick tonight is blowing with great propensity.

I not only saw the possibility of nuclear war, I feared it very much. If they started a military conflagration, it would automatically lead to nuclear warfare.