There's no misery in not being loved, only in not loving.

Do not ask the definition of a friend. He/She is that one without whose company death and dying set in earlier and living is made more pleasurable.

The journey back is always longer than the forward run.

People often say 'I live for my art.' Bullshit! If you are given a talent it's to be used. It's not in the private domain.

The gifts that one receives for giving are so immeasurable that it is almost an injustice to accept them.

If you love somebody, tell them.

A poet can't afford to be aloof. The tools of his trade are the people he bumps up against.