It seems like every time you come up something happens to bring you back down.
Poetry has ceased to be a public art and has become, as Whitehead said of religion, "What man does with his aloneness.
Against the ruin of the world, there is only one defense: the creative act.
I've had it with these cheap sons of bitches who claim they love poetry but never buy a book.
I write for one and only one purpose, to overcome the invincible ignorance of the traduced heart. […] I wish to speak to and for those who have had enough of the Social Lie, the Economics of Mass Murder, the Sexual Hoax, and the Domestication of Conspicuous Consumption.
Maturity is having the ability to escape categorization.
There have always been those who, though they see tragedy as the outcome of freedom, will nevertheless judge that tragedy is not too high a price to pay.
Wiped the cold dew-drops from his cheek And sought the mourner's side again. "Once more, dear lady, I must speak: Your last remaining son was slain Just at the closing of the fight; Twas he who sent me here to-night. " "God knows," the man said afterward, "The fight itself was not so hard. "
The great merit of gold is precisely that it is scarce; that its quantity is limited by nature; that it is costly to discover, to mine, and to process; and that it cannot be created by political fiat or caprice.
I'm seventeen and I'm crazy. My uncle says the two always go together. When people ask your age, he said, always say seventeen and insane.
Lance Armstrong deserves to be forgotten in cycling