“When you’re not feeling holy, your loneliness says that you’ve sinned.”

I’m old and the mirrors don’t lie.

I don’t even hate books anymore.

The older I get, the surer I am that I’m not running the show.

When passion dies friendship hovers round our flesh like flies.

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?

The worst decisions are made under the shade of loneliness.

Being strong is lonely.

My mom keeps khabar of everything, so I don’t feel lonely.

If you ever feel lonely and feel that no one loves you and cares for you – remember me.

I am completely a loner. In my head I want to feel I can be anywhere. There is a sort of recklessness that being a loner allows me.

She kissed me just right, like only a lonely angel can.

Give me a flagon of red wine, a book of verses, a loaf of bread, and a little idleness. If with such store I might sit by thy dear side in some lonely place, I should deem myself happier than a king in his kingdom.

Loneliness is the realest feeling I have ever known.