The winter is kind and leaves red berries on the boughs for hungry sparrows.

When we perfect 3-D copiers and they reproduce tissue, we'll have a million Marilyns walking around with no souls.

I'm a modern mountebank - I believe in Physiognomy - after all, we are in control of our face - it's the map of where we've been.

I'm shy in person - so afraid to confess my love - I need a go-between - our mutual friend, the Moon.

Sunday evenings are heavier than clouds with rain, darker too and often interminable.

Poetry is paying attention to life when all the world seems asleep to its beauties and truths.

Authority is the unmistakeable tone in the voice of a true writer.