I am too sick to lay down the sidewalks frighten me the whole damned city frightens me, what I will become what I have become frightens me.

I think I need a drink.' 'Almost everybody does only they don't know it.

and even the trees we walked under seemed less than trees and more like everything else.

You've got to rise from the floor alone or fall back alone.

I should think that many of our poets, the honest ones, will confess to having no manifesto. It is a painful confession but the art of poetry carries its own powers without having to break them down into critical listings. I do not mean that poetry should be raffish and irresponsible clown tossing off words into the void. But the very feeling of a good poem carries its own reason for being... Art is its own excuse, and it’s either Art or it’s something else. It’s either a poem or a piece of cheese.

...having nothing to struggle against they have nothing to struggle for.

I was their bar freak, they needed me to make themselves feel better. just like, at times, I needed that graveyard.