Whenever I'm sad I'm going to die, or so nervous I can't sleep, or in love with somebody I won't be seeing for a week, I slump down just so far and then I say: 'I'll go take a hot bath.

The thought that I might kill myself formed in my mind coolly as a tree or a flower.

I wonder about all the roads not taken and am moved to quote Frost...but won't. It is sad to be able only to mouth other poets. I want someone to mouth me.

One thing, I try to be honest. And what is revealed is often rather hideously unflattering.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

I am too pure for you or anyone.

I suppose if I gave myself the chance I could be an alcoholic.