“Ah, grief makes us precise!”

There is a crack in everything.

The last refuge of the insomniac is a sense of superiority to the sleeping world.

Poetry is a verdict, not an occupation.

We are so lightly here. It is in love that we are made. In love we disappear.

You wanted to be the Superman who was never Clark Kent.

Ordinary eternal machinery, like the grinding of the stars.

A young nurse is standing close behind me wondering whether she is being drawn by my power or her charity.

After a while, if you are sufficiently bored or unemployed, you may want to read it from cover to cover.

A kite is a victim you are sure of. You love it because it pulls.

You live your life as if it’s real, a thousand kisses deep.

To kiss her there was to intrude into something private and skeletal, like a turtle’s shoulder.

How can I begin anything new with all of yesterday in me?

Your faith was strong, but you needed proof.

Deprivation is the mother of poetry.

Going nowhere isn’t about turning your back on the world; it’s about stepping away now and then so that you can see the world more clearly and love it more deeply.

There is a war between the ones who say there is a war and the ones who say there isn’t.

Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured.

There is no space wider than that of grief.

I promise you I will do everything just as you ask. But come closer. Let us give in to grief, however briefly, in each other’s arms.

Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them.

Restaurants make money off those suffering from hunger, and grief counselors make money off those who have suffered tragic loss.

Don’t engage your heart in grief over the past or you wont be ready for what is coming.

Grief does not change you, It reveals you.

Both she and I have grief enough and trouble enough, but as for regrets – neither of us have any.