A man is an island in the only sense that matters, not an easy way to be. We live in mystery, a cosmos of separate lonely bodies, men, insects, stars. It is all loneliness and men know it best.

For misery don't blame God. He gives the food but we cook it.

There comes a time in a man's life when to get where he has to go - if there are no doors or windows he walks through a wall.

Charity you can give even when you haven't got.

I fix what's broken - except in the heart.

The wild begins where you least expect it, one step off your normal course

Writing is a mode of being. If I write I live.