as a child i suppose i was not quite normal. my happiest times were when i was left alone in the house on a saturday.

Something that never happens anywhere at any time.

New Year's Eve always terrifies me.

the way to create art is to burn and destroy ordinary concepts and to substitute them with new truths that run down from the top of the head and out of the heart

The centuries are sprinkled with rare magic with divine creatures who help us get past the common and extraordinary ills that beset us

I held her wrists and then I got it through the eyes: hatred, centuries deep and true. I was wrong and graceless and sick. all the things I had learned had been wasted. there was no creature living as foul as I and all my poems were false.

I pretend to understand because I don't want anybody to be hurt