…hate's got to be a disease with me.

Gilbert, I'm afraid I'm scandalously in love with you.

But I believe I rather like superstitious people. They lend color to life. Wouldn't it be a rather drab world if everybody was wise and sensible . . . and good? What would we find to talk about?

Good night, belovedest. Your sleep will be sweet if there is any influences in the wishes of your own.

…there was something about her that made you feel it was safe to tell her secrets.

She suddenly found herself laughing without bitterness.

I hate to lend a book I love…it never seems quite the same when it comes back to me…

Don't be ridiculous, please.'The most insulting words in the world!

We always hate people who surprise our secrets…

Why should one hate you when you were so small? Could you be worth hating?

Isn't it queer that the things we writhe over at night are seldom wicked things? Just humiliating ones.

She hated being a nobody and like all children, adopted or not, I have had to live out some of her unlived life. We do that for our parents - we don't really have any choice.

Falling in love with you was out of my control, but I do have a say in what happens next. And, I will choose to stay in love with you through everything this life throws at us.

As a poet and a teacher, I read all the time. I know I read slowly. I like reading, but I don't read any more than I have to.

Julianne Moore and Michael Keaton began in 1980s soap operas and 1970s sitcoms, respectively, such ancient history by show business standards that you need carbon dating to measure their careers.

So, there I was, tied to an altar made from outdated encyclopedias, about to get sacrificed to the dark powers by a cult of evil Librarians.

I try to excite myself so I stay crazy.

The thing I can say about all this stuff that's going on right now is that I appreciate it.

When have you ever seen someone who had no doubts who was also correct about anything?

I don't have much desire to move to LA much yet. I don't think you can expect it any time soon, but who knows what can happen in the future.

Prose may carry a load of ill-defined matters like a ship. But poetry is the machine which drives it, pruned to a perfect economy.