The crowd is made of little gods, and there is still no heaven.

The ghosts swarm. They speak as one person. Each has left something undone.

Poetry wants to make things mean more than they mean, says someone, as if we knew how much things meant, and in what unit of measure.

Metaphor is ritual sacrifice. It kills the look-alike. No, metaphor is homeopathy.

But here I hold your dream in my poem.

Curled up in bed, I’m young in the old way.

We are all full of discourses that we only half understand and half mean.

The fear that all this will end. The fear that it won't.

We sleep together in the dark but confuse light with love.

clarity need not be equivalent to / readability. How readable is the world?

Carried by light, images remain while sensation is so evanescent as to be always beyond belief.

Running a business is a serious thing.

At the end of the line, lies a new beginning.

..balancing time you spend with or without people is crucial for mental health.

It's sad that we never get trained to leave assumptions behind.

Success in solving the problem depends on choosing the right aspect, on attacking the fortress from its accessible side.

I don't like gourmet cooking or 'this' cooking or 'that' cooking. I like good cooking.

Oh my goodness the mystery that has prompted my objective. My quality lies exclusively in my tirelessness.

My plan is to shock people with what I can do, because I've got a few sides to me that I've never used on screen.

I'm thankful for the position that I'm in, I'm thankful to go to the ceremony [of Grammys] the first time, thankful for everything. I'm just taking it step by step.

We sleep researchers like cats, you know; they sleep a lot!