I won because of the fact that people that are great, great American people have been forgotten. I call them the forgotten man and the forgotten woman. They've been forgotten.
After all, how often do we get a second chance?
One little ripple started today could create a typhoon fifteen years from now.
I simply wanted a kiss. I was a freshman girl who had never been kissed. Never. But I liked the boy, he liked me, and I was going to kiss him. That's the story, the whole story, right there.
I didn't feel physically sick. But mentally. My mind was twisting in so many ways. (. . . ) We once saw a documentary on migraines. One of the men interviewed used to fall on his knees and bang his head against the floor, over and over during attacks. This diverted the pain from deep inside his brain, where he couldn't reach it, to a pain outside that he had control over.
I decided to find out how people at school might react if one of the students never came back.
That's what I love about poetry. The more abstract, the better. The stuff where you're not sure what the poet's talking about. You may have an idea, but you can't be sure. Not a hundred percent. Each word, specifically chosen, could have a million different meanings.
We have long observed that every neurosis has the result, and therefore probably the purpose, of forcing the patient out of real life, of alienating him from actuality.
Look out into the July night, and see the broad belt of silver flame which flashes up the half of heaven, fresh and delicate as the bonfires of the meadow-flies. Yet the powers of numbers cannot compute its enormous age,—lasting as space and time,—embosomed in time and space.
I like performing. I like partnering with an audience.
Amend Constitution to remove aliens' birthright citizenship.