In each studio there is a human being dressed in the full regalia of his myth fearing to expore a vulnerable opening, spreading not his charms but his defences, plotting to disrobe, somewhere along the night-- his body without the aperture of the heart or his heart with a door closed to his body. thus keeping one compartment for refuge, one uninvaded cell.

Poetry is the alchemy which teaches us to convert ordinary materials into gold.

In New York the acoustics are good for laughter, for life is all external, all action, no thought, no meditation, no dreaming, no reflection, only the exuberance of action.

I am aware of being in a beautiful prison, from which I can only escape by writing.

Only the united beat of sex and heart together can create ecstasy.

I will not adjust myself to the world. I am adjusted to myself.

Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.