We're supposed to see "universal" love as heterosexual. What I insist upon in my work is that there is no such thing as universal love in literature.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary.
The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?
I am walking like a bewitched corpse, with the certainty of being eaten by the infinite, of being annulled by the only existing Absurd.
Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.
There are moments when, even to the sober eye of Reason, the world of our sad humanity must assume the aspect of Hell.
A poem in form still has to have voice, gesture, a sense of discovery, a metaphoric connection, as any poetry does.
When a woman has not received much flattery in her life, she will be seduced.
On the prairie one can see the colour of the air.
My family spent many years sleeping side by side in the same room. It's important for me to not separate myself from them or to say that I've suffered more than they have because I'm gay. We all suffered from the same political rejection, and from poverty. When you're starving with eleven other people in the same room, you become connected to them forever. We were all hungry at the same time.