Poetry at its best is the language your soul would speak if you could teach your soul to speak.

Fate has never ladled out hardship very evenly, and this frequently trips our often infantile sense of justice.

My advice is, do not try to inhabit another's soul. You have your own.

Beware, O wanderer, the road is walking too.

I rarely read or buy a book because of a review.

I write novellas because I don't like loose sprawling prose.

Strangely, when I totally emerged from this slump I couldn't comprehend how I had almost drowned it it.