Blessed be they whose lives do not taste of evilbut if some god shakes your houseruin arrivesruin does not leaveit comes tolling over the generationsit comes rolling the black night salt up from the ocean floorand all your thrashed coasts groan

Under the seams runs the pain.

Each night about this time he puts on sadness like a garment and goes on writing.

Desire doubled is love and love doubled is madness.

It takes practice to shave the skin off the light.

It is easier to tell a story of how people wound one another than of what binds them together.

We are only midway through the central verse of our youth when we see ourselves begin to blacken. ... We had been seduced into thinking that we were immortal and suddenly the affair is over.