How are his poems?" "He's not as good as he thinks he is, but then most of us feel that way.

the sea is made of blood

Dear child, I only did to you what the sparrow did to you; I am old when it is fashionable to be young; I cry when it is fashionable to laugh. I hated you when it would have taken less courage to love.

I tell you such fine music waits in the shadows of hell.

one more creature dizzy with love

They have no idea that it can be done by a bus driver, a field hand, or a fry cook. They have no idea where it comes from. It comes from pain, damnation and impossibility. The blow to the soul of the gut. It comes from getting burned and seared and slugged. It comes from...new and awful places and the same old places.

The world had somehow gone too far, and spontaneous kindness could never be so easy.