“We humans seem disastrously in love with this thing (whatever it is) that glitters on the earth– we call it life.”

My religion makes no sense and does not help me therefore I pursue it.

The self forms at the edge of desire, and a science of self arises in the effort to leave that self behind.

To be running breathlessly, but not yet arrived, is itself delightful, a suspended moment of living hope.

Poetry – poiesis means a thing made.

You used to say. “Desire doubled is love and love doubled is madness.” Madness doubled is marriage I added when the caustic was cool, not intending to produce a golden rule.

Love dares the self to leave itself behind, to enter into poverty.

I never had much education in English poetry as such.

Madness and witchery as well as bestiality are conditions commonly associated with the use of the female voice in public.

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.

A man moves through time. It means nothing except that, like a harpoon, once thrown he will arrive.

One of the principle qualities of pain is that it demands an explanation.

Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief.

Consider incompleteness as a verb.

Reality is a sound, you have to tune in to it not just keep yelling.

I am a drop of gold he would say I am molten matter returned from the core of earth to tell you interior things.

Our actions must clothe us with an immortality loathsome or glorious.

When we acknowledge a child’s feelings, we do him a great service.

I think L.A. is beautiful.

I’m a big fan of Tom Stoppard’s work, and have been since I was in school where I studied him.

Have we not all, amid life’s petty strife

A bit of a crisis of faith, I suppose.

If you see me happy, laughing, or in love then please, don’t disturb me.

And life is given to none freehold, but it is leasehold for all.