but as God said, crossing his legs, I see where I have made plenty of poets but not so very much poetry.

we sat there smoking cigarettes at 5 in the morning.

Almost everybody is born a genius and buried an idiot.

there are so many days when living stops and pulls up and sits and waits like a train on the rails.

it is good to be sitting some place in public at 2:30 in the afternoon without getting the flesh ripped from your bones.

… and we are in bed together laughing and we don’t care about anything.

I carry death in my left pocket. Sometimes I take it out and talk to it: "Hello, baby, how you doing? When you coming for me? I'll be ready.