Poetry is the establishment of a metaphorical link between white butterfly-wings and the scraps of torn-up love-letters.

I was up day and night with Lincoln for years. I couldn't have picked a better companion.

My room for books and study or for sitting and thinking about nothing in particular to see what would happen was at the end of a hall.

A liar is a liar and lives on the lies he tells and dies in a life of lies.

If the facts are against you, argue the law. If the law is against you, argue the facts. If the law and the facts are against you, pound the table and yell like hell

Life is like an onion. You peel it off one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep.

What else have I done nearly all my life than go hungry and go on singing?