There are so many people in the world, and I want to know them all but I don’t even know my next-door neighbor’s name.

All the emails I get these days start with sorry but I've been so busy, and I don't understand how we can be so busy and then have nothing to say to each other.

I once saw a picture in the paper of John Hegley with 'poet' written on his knuckles, and I thought that was pretty cool, so I was quite up front about it.

It is something I recognise in myself. I do eavesdrop. I do people-watch, a lot.

There are so many people in the world, and I want to know them all but I don’t even know my next-door neighbor’s name.

If you listen, you can hear it. The city, it sings. If you stand quietly, at the foot of a garden, in the middle of the street, on the roof of a house. It's clearest at night, when the sound cuts more sharply across the surface of things, when the song reaches out to a place inside you. It's a wordless song, for the most, but it's a song all the same, and nobody hearing it could doubt what it sings. And the song sings the loudest when you pick out each note.

Everybodys got their own situation and their own needs.