Everybody knows that the boat is leaking. Everybody knows the captain lied. Everybody got this broken feeling, like their father or their dog just died. Everybody talking to their pockets. Everybody wants a box of chocolates and a long-stem rose. Everybody knows.

And what can I tell you, my brother, my killer, what can I possibly say? I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you, I'm glad you stood in my way

Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash.

..you wanted to be the Superman who was never Clark Kent

Maybe the culture is [particularly] shabby now. Maybe it's because I'm over sixty, that I can feel that about everything.

The less I was of who I was, the better I felt.

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