So I kiss him, and there is the great dark sea ahead.

I do not love; I do not love anybody except myself. That is a rather shocking thing to admit.

I shall never get out of this! There are two of me now: This new absolutely white person and the old yellow one, And the white person is certainly the superior one. She doesn't need food, she is one of the real saints. At the beginning I hated her, she had no personality- She lay in bed with me like a dead body And I was scared, because she was shaped just the way I was only much whiter and unbreakable and with no complaints. I couldn't sleep for a week she was so cold.

What do you have in mind after you graduate?" What I always thought I had in mind was getting some big scholarship to graduate school or a grant to study all over Europe, and then I thought I'd be a professor and write books of poems or write books of poems and be an editor of some sort. Usually I had these plans on the tip of my tongue. "I don't really know," I heard myself say. I felt a deep shock, hearing myself say that, because the minute I said it, I knew it was true.

Maybe forgetfulness, like a kind snow, should numb and cover them. But they were a part of me. They were my landscape.

As a poet, one lives a bit on air. I always like someone who can teach me something practical.

The man creates a pseudonym and hides behind it like a worm