Why is it that right-wing bastards always stand shoulder to shoulder in solidarity, while liberals fall out among themselves?
Unfortunately justice is the train that's nearly always late.
In any man who dies there dies with him his first snow and kiss and fight... Not people die but worlds die in them.
A poet's autobiography is his poetry. Anything else can only be a footnote.
To partly remain a child: that is to be really mature.
He watched through a crack inside just pretending to be dead he wanted to fix each pallbearer in his memory . . . it seems to me a telephone was installed in the coffin to someone yet again Stalin is sending his instructions.