I wasn't a misanthrope and I wasn't a misogynist but I liked being alone. It felt good to sit alone in a small space and smoke and drink. I had always been good company for myself.

Careful poetry and careful people live only long enough to die safely.

I am a series of small victories and large defeats.

The courage it took to get out of bed each morning to face the same things over and over was enormous.

It seemed better to delay thinking.

I suppose like others I have come through fire and sword, love gone wrong, head-on crashes, drunk at sea, and I have listened to the simple sound of water running in tubs and wished to drown

Death is not the problem; waiting around for it is.