Ordinary professionalism and 20 years' experience can accomplish a lot, but it can't access the hidden places.

Always in my books, I like to throw that rogue element into a stable situation and then see what happens.

The poet will not be satisfied with recording, the poet will have to transform.

Do you wake up as I do, having forgotten what it is that hurts or where, until you move? There is a second of consciousness that is clean again. A second that is you, without memory or experience, the animal warm and waking into a brand new world. There is the sun dissolving the dark, and light as clear as music, filling the room where you sleep and the other rooms behind your eyes.

Everyone who tells a story tells it differently, just to remind us that everybody sees it differently. Some people say there are true things to be found, some people say all kinds of things can be proved. I don't believe them. The only thing for certain is how complicated it all is, like string full of knots. It's all there but hard to find the beginning and impossible to fathom the end. The best you can do is admire the cat's cradle, and maybe knot it up a bit more.

It's hard to remember that this day will never come again. That the time is now and the place is here and that there are no second chances at a single moment.

Why is the measure of love loss?