Poems have ideas. The ideas of poems come out of their emotions and their emotions are carried on images.

Uncharged with invisible meaning, the visible is nothing, mere clay; and without visible circumstance, a territory, to connect to, our spirit is shapeless, nameless, and undefined.

Planning to write is not writing. Outlining, researching, talking to people about what you're doing - none of that is writing. Writing is writing. Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.

The music of the Stones pounds the air like the amplified pulse of my erection.

I can walk into a bookstore and hand over my credit card and they don't know who the hell I am. Maybe that says something about bookstore clerks.

We are all good friends. Friendship is what endures. Shared ideals, respect for the whole character of a human being.

Time seems to me a drift, a shifting of sand. And my mind is shifting with it. I am wearing away.