No foreign sky protected me, no stranger's wing shielded my face. I stand as witness to the common lot survivor of that time, that place.

My shadow serves as the friend I crave

You will hear thunder and remember me, and think: she wanted storms.

Italy is a dream that keeps returning for the rest of your life.

All has been looted, betrayed, sold; black death's wing flashed ahead.

It is unbearably painful for the soul to love silently.

Sunset in the ethereal waves: I cannot tell if the day is ending, or the world, or if the secret of secrets is inside me again.

You will hear thunder and remember me, And think: she wanted storms. The rim Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson, And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.

Forgive me, that I manage badly, Manage badly but live gloriously, That I leave traces of myself in my songs, That I appeared to you in waking dreams.

Call me a sinner, Mock me maliciously: I was your insomnia, I was your grief.

Real tenderness can't be confused, It's quiet and can't be heard.

The Holy One is a flame.

When I became poet laureate, I was in a slightly uncomfortable position because I think a lot of poetry isn't worth reading.

The masculine/feminine look fascinates me. It is not only an issue of empowering women, but I think the shapes look great.

No fear or shame in the dignity of yr experience, language & knowledge

There is no fair use to take something that doesn't belong to you. That's not fair use.

The common characteristics of people make a community possible, but it is their uncommon qualities that make it better.

Drugs are not the way to the light. They won't lead to a fairy-tale life, they lead to suffering.

Crowds of people moved through the streets with a dream-like violence.

He seemed to be made of sunshine and blood-red tissue and clear weather.

Now even the heavens are thankful that because of love I have become the giver of light.