A poet, any real poet, is simply an alchemist who transmutes his cynicism regarding human beings into an optimism regarding the moon, the stars, the heavens, and the flowers, to say nothing of Spring, love, and dogs.

Impersonal criticism?is like an impersonal fist fight or an impersonal marriage, and as successful.

Love is the emotion that a woman feels always for a poodle dog and sometimes for a man.

A man's wife is his compromise with the illusion of his first sweetheart.

Love demands infinitely less than friendship.

Whenever a man encounters a woman in a mood he doesn't understand, he wants to know if she's tired.

Sex touches the heavens only when it simultaneously touches the gutter and the mud.