The darkness has it's own light.

A lively understandable spirit Once entertained you. It will come again. Be still. Wait.

So much of adolescence is an ill-defined dying, An intolerable waiting, A longing for another place and time, Another condition.

In this place of light: he dares to live Who stops being a bird, yet beats his wings Against the immense immeasurable emptiness of things.

Any fool can take a bad line out of a poem; it takes a real pro to throw out a good line.

(I measure time by how a body sways.)

I learn by going where I have to go.