I am so hungry for a big smashing creative burgeoning burdened love.

I want to force myself again and again to leave the warmth and security of static situations and move into the world of growth and suffering where the real books are people's minds and souls.

What did my fingers do before they held him? What did my heart do, with its love?

I'm about fifty years behind as far as my preferences go and I must say that the poets who excite me most are the Americans. There are very few contemporary English poets that I admire.

If I rest, if I think inward, I go mad.

When they asked me what I wanted to be I said I didn’t know. "Oh, sure you know," the photographer said. "She wants," said Jay Cee wittily, "to be everything.

If the body is a temple, then tattoos are its stained glass windows.