Now, helpless in the hollow of An unarmorial age, a trough Of smoke in slow suspended skeins Above their scrap of history, Only an attitude remains: Time has transfigured them into Untruth. The stone finality They hardly meant has come to be Their final blazon, and to prove Our almost-instinct almost true: What will survive of us is love.

Depression hangs over me as if I were Iceland.

Sexual intercourse began in 1963 ... / Between the end of the Chatterley ban/ and the Beatles first LP

As a child, I thought I hated everybody, but when I grew up I realized it was just children I didn't like.

Originality is being different from oneself, not others.

A writer can have only one language, if language is going to mean anything to him.

Any memory for the most part depending on chance.