Maybe in order to understand sex fully/one has to risk being destroyed by it.

I'm not sure that the benefit - as a writer and as a citizen - that I would get from reading at least the front page of the Times every day or every other day would outweigh the depression.

I did not deceive him, he did not deceive me, I did not leave him, he did not leave me, I freed him, he freed me.

Take your vitamins. Exercise. Just work to love yourself as much as you can - not more than the people around you but not so much less.

Many poets write books. They'll tell you: Well, I've got my next book, but there are two poems I need to write, one about x, one about y. This is a wonder to me.

I'm not asking a poem to carry a lot of rocks in its pockets. Just being an ordinary observer and liver and feeler and letting the experience get through you onto the notebook with the pen, through the arm, out of the body, onto the page, without distortion.

We're all taking on too much, we're all asking too much of ourselves. We're all wishing we could do more, and therefore just doing more.