What is destructive is impatience, haste, expecting too much too fast.

The creative person, the person who moves from an irrational source of power, has to face the fact that this power antagonizes. Under all the superficial praise of the creative is the desire to kill. It is the old war between the mystic and the nonmystic, a war to the death.

I think that passion if really intense is always destructive if not to the two involved, always to other people.

Whatever peace I know rests in the natural world, in feeling myself a part of it, even in a small way.

The more articulate one is, the more dangerous words become.

We are all jellyfish, too pitiful and too afraid of being disliked to be honest.

I tell the gods are still alive / And they are not consoling.