Birth is a shipwreck, the mewling infant shored on unknown land..

Whatever it is that pulls the pin, that hurls you past the boundaries of your own life into a brief and total beauty, even for a moment, it is enough..

I miss God. I miss the company of someone utterly loyal. I still don't think of God as my betrayer. The servants of God, yes, but servants by their v….

Poets will never be the highest-paid writers in the world. Instead, poetry will go on cutting a hand-made path through the mass-market insanity. Fo….

Today we are all speeding under the golden arms of the arches into our city, into our lives, into the world that is a stream of information, ceaseles….

I think we still believe that ambition is for boys..

Nobody knows anything about Shakespeare the person. It's all legend, it is all rumor..

I think we are worlds compressed into human form..

This hole in my heart is in the shape of you. No one else can fit it. Why would I want them to?.

There's so little wonder left in the world because we've seen everything one way or another'..

Love's lengthways splits the heart in two - the heart where you are, the heart where you want to be..

Naked I came into the world, but brush strokes cover me, language raises me, music rhythms me. Art is my rod and staff, my resting place and shield, ….

I have set off and found that there is no end to even the simplest journey of the mind. I begin, and straight away a hundred alternative routes prese….

When I look at my life I realise that the mistakes I have made, the things I really regret, were not errors of judgement but failures of feeling..

Language always betrays us, tells the truth when we want to lie, and dissolves into formlessness when we would most like to be precise..

What are you that makes me feel thus? Who are you for whom time has no meaning?.

Your weak point is the open, vulnerable place where you can always be hurt. Love, in all its aspects, opens the self so fully..

To me, life, for all its privations, is a luminous thing. You have to risk it..

Reading things that are relevant to the facts of your life is of limited value. The facts are, after all, only the facts, and the yearning passionate….

I remember once walking out hand in hand with a boy I knew, and it was summer, and suddenly before us was a field of gold. Gold as far as you could s….

reading is not a passive act. It's a creative act. It's a relationship between the writer and a person the writer will probably never meet. I think i….