The obstacles are great and the suffering is great and people have got to make a living.

I kind of limp along like so many of us do in these realms. Occasionally I've felt the grace of another presence in my life. But I can't develop any kind of spiritual structure on that.

There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in.

I can work on a verse for a very long time before realising it's not any good and then, and only then, can I discard it.

It’s a pity if someone… has to console himself for the wreck of his days with the notion that somehow his voice, his work embodies the deepest, most obscure, freshest, rawest oyster of reality in the unfathomable refrigerator of the heart’s ocean, but I am such a one, and there you have it.

After a while, if you are sufficiently bored or unemployed, you may want to read it from cover to cover.

I don't remember lighting this cigarette and I don't remember if I'm here alone or waiting for someone.