We do not die with those we mourn.

Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years!I am so weary of toil and of tears,-Toil without recompense, tears all in vain!Take them, and give me my childhood again!

Carve not upon a stone when I am dead, The praises which remorseful mourners give; To women's graves - a tardy recompense, But speak them while I live.

Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight, Make me a child again just for to-night!

Unremembered and afar I watched as I watched a star, Through darkness struggling into view And I loved you better than you knew.

It's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.

Facilis descensus averno - The descent into hell is easy

You gotta fish or cut bait, man.This has gone on long enough. You're playing with fire, every damn time you walk in this bar.

An educated theologian: someone who's better at rationalizing what they're pretending to know.

My different personalities leave me in peace now.

Everybody interprets things differently with their own perception, and I want poetry to pull out of them their own feelings.

The only limitations are the ones we put on ourselves and I just don't believe in limiting myself.

I have known writers who paid no damned attention whatever to the rules of grammar and rhetoric and somehow made the language behave for them.

For I consider the character of no man affected by a want of success, provided he has made an honest effort to succeed.

Like Joseph Mitchell, I would scour the streets of New York and find little pieces of what other people think of as junk - and collect it.