Some of my poems indicate that I am writing while living alone after a split with a woman, and I've had many splits with women. I need solitude more often when I'm not writing than when I am.

There is light somewhere.

I wish to weep but sorrow is stupid. I wish to believe but belief is a graveyard.

You just rebel against everything. How are you going to survive? I don't know. I'm already tired.

Human relationships are strange. I mean, you are with one person a while, eating and sleeping and living with them, loving them, talking to them, going places together, and then it stops.

we know God is dead, they've told us, but listening to you I wasn't sure.

and the color in my eyes has gone back into the sea.