XXIV. And kneeling at the edge of the transparent sea I shall shape for myself a new heart from salt and mud

Words bounce. Words, if you let them, will do what they want to do and what they have to do.

One of the principle qualities of pain is that it demands an explanation.

To be running breathlessly, but not yet arrived, is itself delightful, a suspended moment of living hope.

The words we read and words we write never say exactly what we mean. The people we love are never just as we desire them. The two symbola never perfectly match. Eros is in between.

You remember too much," my mother said to me recently. "Why hold onto all that?" And I said, "where can I put it down?

Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief.

Myths are stories about people who become too big for their lives temporarily, so that they crash into other lives or brush against gods. In crisis their souls are visible.

Under the seams runs the pain.

When I desire you a part of me is gone.

If your way of life is writing, then everything that happens becomes a sentence.

I'd found my niche: cat-owning, stalker-y secretary. And I played the same part again and again and again.

I never really feel like I'm sure a film's gonna happen until I'm maybe halfway through.

You cannot transform the society of people if the people are not part of the change.

American families only spend 17 minutes a day on average having time together.

Hath any wounded thee with injuries? Meet them with patience. Hasty words rankle the wound; soft language dresses it.

I would insist that poetry is a normal human activity and its proper concern all the things that happen to people.

I don't think much of Tito Ortiz. He needs to grow balls and sign to fight Chuck Liddell.

Let our countrymen know that the people alone can protect us against these evils of misgovernment.

They wanna bury me im worried. Im loosin my mind look down the barrel of my nine and my visions blurry. Fallen to pieces am I guilty? I pray to the lord but his laws be unfortunate because im guilty.

I wonder why men get serious at all. They have this delicate, long thing hanging outside their bodies which goes up and down by its own will. If I were a man I would always be laughing at myself.