In the end, we'll all become stories.

A home filled with nothing but yourself. It's heavy, that lightness. It's crushing, that emptiness.

friendship was always contingent.

I could see how you could do extreme things for the person you loved. Adam One said that when you loved a person, that love might not always get returned the way you wanted, but it was a good thing anyway because love went out all around you like an energy wave, and a creature you didn't know would be helped by it.

I tell, therefore you are.

making final judgements about poets, cities or regions on the basis of an anthology is always dangerous: anthologies are mirages created, finally, by their editors.

We have been shark to one another, but also lifeboat.