The poem I want to write is impossible. A stone that floats.

Insomnia is an all-night travel agency with posters advertising faraway places.

To submit to chance is to reveal the self and its obsessions.

Poetry is an orphan of silence.

Words make love on the page like flies in the summer heat and the poet is only the bemused spectator.

The world is beautiful but not sayable. That's why we need art.

I slept little, read a lot, and fell in love frequently.