It's really too bad that so much crumby stuff is a lot of fun sometimes.
Hell is the suffering of being unable to love.
There isn't anyone out there who isn't Seymour's Fat Lady.
If you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry.
Poets are always taking the weather so personally.
Phooey, I say, on all white-shoe college boys who edit their campus literary magazines. Give me an honest con man any day.