“If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don’t write, because our culture has no use for it.”

For you and for me the highest moment, the keenest joy, is not when our minds dominate but when we lose our minds, and you and I both lose it in the same way, through love.

One handles truths like dynamite.

I don’t wish power, only art -art and passion.

The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.

You live out the confusions until they become clear.

Man can never know the loneliness a woman knows.

The real wonders of life lie in the depths. Exploring the depths for truths is the real wonder which the child and the artist know: magic and power lie in truth.

Anxiety is love’s greatest killer. It makes others feel as you might when a drowning man holds on to you. You want to save him, but you know he will strangle you with his panic.

Shame is the lie someone told you about yourself.

People living deeply have no fear of death.

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.

Don’t let one cloud obliterate the whole sky.

Create a world, your world. Alone. Stand alone. And then love will come to you, then it comes to you.

Write. Write until it stops hurting.

No one should be forced to carry the unfulfilled self of another.

It is in the movements of emotional crisis that human beings reveal themselves most accurately.

When composing a verse let there not be a hair’s breath separating your mind from what you write; composition of a poem must be done in an instant, like a woodcutter felling a huge tree or a swordsman leaping at a dangerous enemy.

Let America be America, where equality is in the air we breathe.

I think its breathtaking – How your heart just spills out of you.

Lets breath magic into each other.

Go where you breathe free.

Nature is man’s teacher. She unfolds her treasures to his search, unseals his eye, illumes his mind, and purifies his heart; an influence breathes from all the sights and sounds of her existence.

You’re in my heart, you’re in my soul. You’ll be my breath, should I grow old.

Boys with mischievous smiles and poetry hearts.