“Don’t let the wicked city get you down.”

I want so obviously, so desperately to be loved, and to be capable of love.

If you expect nothing from somebody you are never disappointed.

I felt overstuffed and dull and disappointed, the way I always do the day after Christmas.

The abstract kills, the concrete saves.

I find myself absolutely fulfilled when I have written a poem.

It is so much safer not to feel, not to let the world touch me.

I’m sarcastic, skeptical, and sometimes callous because I’m still afraid, deep down, of letting myself be hurt.

I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life.

I knew you’d decide to be all right again.

Wear your heart on your skin in this life.

I have stitched life into me like a rare organ.

After all, we are nothing more or less than we choose to reveal.

Perhaps some day I’ll crawl back home, beaten, defeated. But not as long as I can make stories out of my heartbreak, beauty out of sorrow.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again.

As a poet, one lives a bit on air. I always like someone who can teach me something practical.

Please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand.

I often feel that my days in New York City, that I was here for five years, didn’t get one job, went on a thousands of auditions and literally did not get a job on a soap, not a movie, not TV, not nothing, although I did do some commercials thank God.

It doesn’t have to be the Grand Canyon, it could be a city street, it could be the face of another human being – Everything is full of wonder.

Ernest Hemingway was always uneasy in New York and liked being there less than in any other city he frequented.

I had a good mind to discontinue permanently the supply of grain to the city, reliance on which had discouraged Italian agriculture, but refrained because some politician would be bound one day to revive the dole as a means of ingratiating himself with the people.

All things atrocious and shameless flock from all parts to Rome.

If a family is an expression of continuity through biology, a city is an expression of continuity through will amd imagination? through mental choices making artifice, not through physical reproduction.

Building the scene, going out and doing shows and connecting with the fans, cultivating the fanbase in all these cities. I’m very glad that it’s happening.

Nature is a petrified magic city.