Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so. After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns, we ourselves flash and yearn, and moreover my mother told me as a boy (repeatedly) 'Ever to confess you're bored means you have no inner Resources.' I conclude now I have no inner resources, because I am heavy bored.

You should always be trying to write a poem you are unable to write, a poem you lack the technique, the language, the courage to achieve. Otherwise you're merely imitating yourself, going nowhere, because that's always easiest.

These Songs are not meant to be understood, you understand. They are only meant to terrify & comfort.

Bats have no bankers and they do not drink and cannot be arrested and pay no tax and, in general, bats have it made.

Wishin' was dyin' but I gotta make it all this way to that bed on these feet.

We have reason to be afraid. This is a terrible place.

I think that what happens in my poetic work in the future will depend on my being knocked in the face, and thrown flat, and given cancer, and all kinds of other things short of senile dementia.