I think we're starved for a life of the senses. We're in the garage, we're in the car, we drive to work, we're in a windowless cubicle that's gray and beige. In a way, it's funny that we consider ourselves an advanced culture, because people who live in so-called primitive environments still enjoy the richness of the smells, colors, and sounds of our world. We all crave that.

Just because a poet said something didn’t mean it was true, only that it sounded good.

It's all I ever really wanted, that revelation. The possibility of fixed stars.

Find someone who will tremble for your touch, someone whose fingers are a poem.

Her fingers moved among barnacles and mussels, blue-black, sharp-edged. Neon red starfish were limp Dalis on the rocks, surrounded by bouquets of stinging anemones and purple bursts of spiny sea urchins.

A womans mistakes are different from a girls

As a person with terrible handwriting, I love the computer. I've waited all my life for the computer.