I know those little phrases that seem so innocuous, and, once you let them in, pollute the whole of speech. 'Nothing is more real than nothing.' They rise up out of the pit and know no rest until they drag you down into its dark.

Let me go to hell, that's all I ask, and go on cursing them there, and them look down and hear me, that might take some of the shine off their bliss.

We spend our life, it's ours, trying to bring together in the same instant a ray of sunshine and a free bench

Poets are the sense, philosophers­­ the intelligence­­ of humanity.

The day you die is just like any other, only shorter.

If you don't know where you are currently standing, you're dead.

The essential is to go on squirming forever at the end of the line, as long as there are waters and banks and ravening in heaven asporting God to plague his creature, per pro his chosen shits.