If the sky falls they shall have clouds for supper.
If I believe in anything, it is in the dark night of the soul. Awe is my religion, and mystery is its church.
Wanted: a needle swift enough to sew this poem into a blanket.
Insomnia is an all-night travel agency with posters advertising faraway places.
To submit to chance is to reveal the self and its obsessions.
A 'truth' detached and purified of pleasures of ordinary life is not worth a damn in my view. Every grand theory and noble sentiment ought to be first tested in the kitchen-and then in bed, of course.