Be still when you have nothing to say; when genuine passion moves you, say what you've got to say, and say it hot.

Sex is our deepest form of consciousness. It is utterly non-ideal, non-mental. It is pure blood-consciousness.... It is the consciousness of the night, when the soul is almost asleep.

When along the pavement, Palpitating flames of life, People flicker around me, I forget my bereavement, The gap in the great constellation, The place where a star used to be

We've got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.

For my part, I prefer my heart to be broken. It is so lovely, dawn-kaleidoscopic within the crack.

I believe the nearest I've come to perfect love was with a young coal-miner when I was about 16.

Poe tried alcohol, and any drug he could lay his hands on. He also tried any human being he could lay his hands on.