You have to have been in love to write poetry.
I want to hide from it, that’s what I want to do. I want to just close my eyes and let it pass by. Let it take the next man.
How far would you run with a piece of lead in your heart?
Drinking’s funny. When I look back on it, all of our important decisions have been figured out when we were drinking. Even when we talked about having to cut back on drinking, we’d be sitting at the k...
All of us, all of us, all of us trying to save our immortal souls, some ways seemingly more round about and mysterious than others. We are having a good time here. But hope all will be revealed soon.
Life and death matters, yes. And the question of how to behave in this world, how to go in the face of everything. Time is short and the water is rising.
My circumstances of unrelieved responsibility and permanent distraction necessitated the short story form.
You see, this happened a few months ago, but it's still going on right now, and it ought to make us feel ashamed when we talk like we know what we're talking about when we talk about love.
It was [John Gardner's] conviction that if the words in the story were blurred because of the author's insensitivity, carelessness, or sentimentality, then the story suffered from a tremendous handica...
There was this funny thing of anything could happen now that we realized everything had.
It is August.My life is going to change. I feel it.
Woke up this morning witha terrific urge to lie in bed all dayand read. Fought against it for a minute.Then looked out the window at the rain.And gave over. Put myself entirelyin the keep of this rain...
The light was draining out of the room, going back through the window where it had come from.
She won't give him back his look.
Sai bene che non sogno.Ma ieri notte ho sognato che assistevamo a un funerale nel mare. All’inizio ero attonito. Poi pieno di rimpianti. Ma tu
I’d like to go out in the front yard and shout something. None of this is worth it! That’s what I’d like people to hear.
Fear of seeing a police car pull into the drive.Fear of falling asleep at night.Fear of not falling asleep.Fear of the past rising up.Fear of the present taking flight.Fear of the telephone that rings...
There is in the soul a desire for not thinking.For being still. Coupled with thisa desire to be strict, yes, and rigorous.But the soul is also a smooth son of a bitch,not always trustworthy. And I for...
And did you get whatyou wanted from this life, even so?I did.And what did you want?To call myself beloved, to feel myselfbeloved on the earth.
But he stays by the window, remembering that life. They had laughed. They had leaned on each other and laughed until the tears had come, while everything else—the cold and where he'd go in it—was outs...
