Much that is beautiful must be discarded So that we may resemble a taller Impression of ourselves.

There is the view that poetry should improve your life. I think people confuse it with the Salvation Army.

The ellipse is as aimless as that, Stretching invisibly into the future so as to reappear In our present. Its flexing is its account, Return to the point of no return.

You stupefied me. We waxed, Carnivores, late and alight In the beaded winter. All was ominous, luminous.

The first year was like icing. Then the cake started to show through.

I write with experiences in mind, but I don't write about them, I write out of them.

Reading is a pleasure, but to finish reading, to come to the blank space at the end, is also a pleasure.

The summer demands and takes away too much. /But night, the reserved, the reticent, gives more than it takes

And so we turn the page over. To think of starting. This is all there is.

In the increasingly convincing darkness The words become palpable, like a fruit That is too beautiful to eat.

I don't look on poetry as closed works. I feel they're going on all the time in my head and I occasionally snip off a length.

In the evangelical world, prying can be an indicator of compassion.

Value oriented is the worst thing that you get from your hard process. That's not a good finale, that's really worst finale

I do not fear death.I fear dying incomplete

To say that the whole of the industrial experience of Europe and America just shows the rewards of exploiting the Third World is a gross simplification.

I tell you I look forward with terror to her [Germany] making war upon us again in ten years.

I can't tell you if the use of force in Iraq today will last five days, five weeks or five months, but it won't last any longer than that.

It’s about getting to a point in your life where you’re ready to let go and move on and become the better version of yourself.

There are four basic food groups: plain chocolate, milk chocolate, dark chocolate, and white chocolate.

Have you ever been hurt and the place tries to heal a bit, and you just pull the scar off of it over and over again.

He was the sort of person who stood on mountaintops during thunderstorms in wet copper armour shouting 'All the Gods are bastards.'