God is indeed dead. He died of self-horror when He saw the creature He had made in His own image.

A poet is deeply conflicted and it's in his work that he reconciles those deep conflicts. The place is the harbor. It doesn't set the world in order, you know, it's the place of reconciliation. It's the Consolamentum, the kiss of peace.

Time flames like a paraffin stove / and what burns are the minutes I live.

Conscience: self-esteem with a halo.

A Canadian is someone who keeps asking the question, 'What is a Canadian?

My neighbor doesn't want to be loved as much as he wants to be envied.

I have stopped being a misanthrope.