But suicides have a special language. Like carpenters they want to know which tools. They never ask why build. Twice I have so simply declared myself, have possessed the enemy, eaten the enemy, have taken on his craft, his magic.

I am teaching... This year it's kind of like having a love affair with a rhinoceros.

Thief!- how did you crawl into, crawl down alone into the death I wanted so badly and for so long.

Some women marry houses. It's another kind of skin; it has a heart, a mouth, a liver and bowel movements.

The joy that isn't shared dies young.

One can't build little white picket fences to keep nightmares out.

All I am is the trick of words writing themselves.