A man may forgive many wrongs, but he cannot easily forgive anyone who makes it plain that his conversation is tedious.

There are moments of despair that come sometimes, when night sets in and a white fog presses against the windows. Then our house changes its shape, rears up and becomes a place of despair. Then fear and rage run simply--and the thought of Death as a friend. This is the simplest of thoughts, that Death must come when we call, although he is a god.

The world is come upon me, I used to keep it a long way off, But now I have been run over and I am in the hands of the hospital staff.

The human creature is alone in his carapace. Poetry is a strong way out.

People who are always praising the past And especially the time of faith as best Ought to go and live in the Middle Ages And be burnt at the stake as witches and sages.

Love is not love that wounded bleeds And bleeding sullies slow. Come death within my hands and I Unto my love will go.

Why does my muse only speak when she is uhnhappy? She does not, I only listen when I am unhappy.