he stood against the wind and let it peel him clean

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.

This time it is real — all must die, and where could mountaineer find a more glorious death!

Thought is the strongest thing we have. Work done by true and profound thought - that is a real force.

CDs are usually an hour long because that's the amount a CD could hold - not because that's the optimal amount of time for any given musical expression.

What a wonderful and amazing Scheme have we here of the magnificent Vastness of the Universe! So many Suns, so many Earths.

When one man says, “No, I won’t,” Rome begins to fear.

How do you know if your child is a writer? Your obstetrician holds his stethoscope to your abdomen and only hears excuses.

Every artist's world is an individual experience and no one thing can prepare you. You have to go in and go where those roles lead you - just allow it to happen and follow your path.

Sometimes silence was easiest, when the only word left was good-bye.

That's why charity work is very selfish at the same time, because it makes you feel good.

Poetry is one of the original arts, and it began, as did all the fine arts, within the original wilderness of the earth.