My ideal job? Landlord of a bordello! The company's good and the mornings are quiet, which is the best time to write.

In writing, you must kill all your darlings.

The writer in America isn't part of the culture of this country. He's like a fine dog. People like him around, but he's of no use.

Who is he who will affirm that there must be a web of flesh and bone to hold the shape of love?

I, the dreamer clinging yet to the dream as the patient clings to the last thin unbearable ecstatic instant of agony in order to sharpen the savor of the pain's surcease, waking into the reality, the more than reality, not to the unchanged and unaltered old time but into a time altered to fit the dream which, conjunctive with the dreamer, becomes immolated and apotheosized

The poets are almost always wrong about the facts... That's because they are not really interested in facts: only in truth...

It's always the idle habits you acquire which you will regret.