Any serious attempt to try to do something worthwhile is ritualistic.

The truth is that the poems are ecstatic.

Americans are not brought up with meter. They're not brought up with poetry. If you try to get them to recite, they're too embarrassed.

In Eden who sleeps happiest? The serpent.

I try to forget what happiness was, and when that don't work, I study the stars.

I look in the mirror. There's me. What's in the mirror is not real. So am I unreal?

Damn wind shift sudden as a woman mind.