If your sexual fantasies were truly of interest to others, they would no longer be fantasies.
I shall be dumped where the weed decays, And the rest is rust and stardust
I have no desires, save the desire to express myself in defiance of all the world’s muteness.
Mind you, sometimes the angels smoke, hiding it with their sleeves, and when the archangel comes, they throw the cigarettes away: that’s when you get shooting stars.
Poetry involves the mysteries of the irrational perceived through rational words.
Because you took advantage of my disadvantage.
It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight.
If you take a book with you on a journey," Mo had said when he put the first one in her box, "an odd thing happens: The book begins collecting your memories. And forever after you have only to open that book to be back where you first read it. It will all come into your mind with the very first words: the sights you saw in that place, what it smelled like, the ice cream you ate while you were reading it. . . yes, books are like flypaper—memories cling to the printed page better than anything else.
Imagination is something you do alone.
Words are contact with other beings. I see a word that says something I've noticed, seen, felt, obserevd, and I capture it; "I need that word!"
America has been another name for opportunity.