God has a brown voice, as soft and full as beer. |
Saints have no moderation, nor do poets, just exuberance. |
The joy that isn't shared dies young. |
Death's in the good-bye. |
It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was. |
God owns heaven but He craves the earth. |
Need is not quite belief. |
Even without wars, life is dangerous. |
In a dream you are never eighty. |
The beautiful feeling after writing a poem is on the whole better even than after sex, and that's saying a lot. |
Live or die, but don't poison everything. |
Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard. |
I am not immortal. Faustus and I are the also-ran. |