I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.

My worst habit is my fear & my destructive rationalizing.

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

I want to write because I have the urge to excel in one medium of translation and expression of life. I can't be satisfied with the colossal job of merely living. Oh, no, I must order life in sonnets and sestinas and provide a verbal reflector for my 60-watt lighted head.

If you love her", I said, "you'll love somebody else someday.

What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.

There is a certain clinical satisfaction in seeing just how bad things can get.