The fact that you can love something that you've lost is all the incentive you need to love again, as opposed to becoming comfortably numb.
The human creature is alone in his carapace. Poetry is a strong way out.
Death's not a separation or alteration or parting; it's just a one-handled door.
It is the privilege of the rich To waste the time of the poor To water with tears in secret A tree that grows in secret That bears fruit in secret That ripened falls to the ground in secret And manures the parent tree Oh the wicked tree of hatred and the secret The sap rising and the tears falling.
This is the simplest of all thoughts, that Death must come when we call, although he is a god.
I love Death because he breaks the human pattern and frees us from pleasures too prolonged as well as from the pains of this world. It is pleasant, too, to remember that Death lies in our hands; he must come if we call him. . . . I think if there were no death, life would be more than flesh and blood could bear.
I like food, I like stripping vegetables of their skins, I like to have a slim young parsnip under my knife.
Here I am an old man in a long nightgown making muffled noises at people who may be no worse than I am.
We are on top at the moment, but not because of the club's financial power. We are in contention for a lot of trophies because of my hard work.
To feel today what one felt yesterday isn't to feel - it's to remember today what was felt yesterday, to be today's living corpse of what yesterday was lived and lost.
Love the questions themselves. . . Live the questions now and have confidence that someday far into the future, [I will live my] way into the answer.