I am flushed and warm. I think I may be enormous, I am so stupidly happy, My wellingtons Squelching and squelching through the beautiful red.

What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination.

I had been alone more than I could have been had I gone by myself.

When you are insane, you are busy being insane-all the time ... when I was crazy, that was all I was.

I'm doped and thick from my last sleeping pill.

For the few little successes I may seem to have, there are acres of misgivings and self-doubt.

The blood jet is poetry and there is no stopping it.