I've seen the future and it's murder.

My heart sings of your longing for me, and my thoughts climb down to marvel at your mercy. I do not fear as you gather up my days. Your name is the sweetness of time, and you carry me close into the night, speaking consolations, drawing down lights from the sky, saying, See how the night has no terrors for one who remembers the name.

We are so lightly here. It is in love that we are made. In love we disappear.

When you stop thinking about yourself all the time, a certain sense of repose overtakes you.

I'm neither left or right. I'm just staying home tonight, getting lost in that hopeless little screen.

As a young man, Yeats spoke to me in a way I could understand. Shakespeare I couldn't understand, but Yeats I could. It was his subject matter and also I really admired the way he put his personal life on the line.

A community is an alibi for the failure of individual love.