If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it's to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel.

Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they're wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain.

The gate is straight, Deep and wide, Break on through to the other side...

No one here gets out alive.

A man searching for paradise lost can seem a fool to those who never sought the other world.

I've noticed that when people are joking they're usually dead serious, and when they're serious, they're usually pretty funny.

The most loving parents and relatives commit murder with smiles on their faces. They force us to destroy the person we really are: a subtle kind of murder.