the lies of centuries, the lies of love, the lies of Socrates and Blake and Christwill be your bedmates and tombstonesin a death that will never end.

hate contains truth. beauty is a facade.

waitingin a life full of little storiesfor a death to come

it's so easy to be a poetand so hard to be a man.

I wait on my fix:I am a poetry junkie.

it's good to have things done withwhen they don't workit's also good not to hateor even forgetthe person you've failed with.

I like to prowl ordinary placesand taste the people-from a distance.

I like to prowl ordinary places.I feel sorry for us all or glad for us allcaught alive togetherand awkward in that way.there's nothing better than the jokeof usthe seriousness of usthe dullness of us

for meobedience to another is the decayof self

love needs too much help, he said.hate takes care of itself.

for meobedience to another is the decay of self.for though every being is similareach being is differentand to herd our differencesunder one lawdegrades each self.

We cannot think of being acceptable to others until we have first proven acceptable to ourselves.

Music can touch that deepest portion of the soul where nothing else can reach. It can fill our hearts with indescribable ecstasy.

While it is good that we seek to know the Holy One, it is probably not so good to presume that we ever complete the task.

Andrew Davies has said he prefers his authors dead, and I can see there is only a limited usefulness in a live one when it comes to adaptation.

Here is a new car, a new iPhone. We buy. We discard. We buy again. In recent years, we've been doing it faster.

IT IS TIME THAT WE ALL SEE GENDER AS A SPECTRUM INSTEAD OF TWO SETS OF OPPOSING IDEALS.

It's true that I have very little idea what I shall be writing next, but at the same time I have a powerful premonition of everything that lies ahead of me, even ten years ahead.

What a thing is and what it means are not separate, the former being physical and the latter mental as we are accustomed to believe.

The biggest difference between a writer and a would-be writer is their attitude toward rewriting. . . . Unwillingness to revise usually signals an amateur.

I do love My country's good with a respect more tender, More holy and profound, then mine own life, My dear wife's estimate, her womb increase, And treasure of my loins.