Poets are always taking the weather so personally. They’re always sticking their emotions in things that have no emotions.
I don’t even know what I was running for – I guess I just felt like it.
I’ll read my books and I’ll drink coffee and I’ll listen to music, and I’ll bolt the door.
All morons hate it when you call them a moron.
She wrote to him fairly regularly, from a paradise of triple exclamation points and inaccurate observations.
An artist’s only concern is to shoot for some kind of perfection, and on his own terms, not anyone else’s.
The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.
I love you to pieces, distraction, etc.
We are, all four of us, blood relatives, and we speak a kind of esoteric, family language, a sort of semantic geometry in which the shortest distance between any two points is a fullish circle.
I don’t exactly know what I mean by that, but I mean it.
The worst thing that being an artist could do to you would be that it would make you slightly unhappy constantly.
I’m sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody.
I don’t even like old cars. I’d rather have a goddam horse. A horse is at least human, for God’s sake.
I’m quite illiterate, but I read a lot.
The more expensive a school is, the more crooks it has – I’m not kidding.
And I have one of those very loud, stupid laughs. I mean if I ever sat behind myself in a movie or something, I’d probably lean over and tell myself to please shut up.
Certain things, they should stay the way they are. You ought to be able to stick them in one of those big glass cases and just leave them alone.
Poets are always taking the weather so personally.
I like it when somebody gets excited about something. It’s nice.
That’s something that annoys the hell out of me-I mean if somebody says the coffee’s all ready and it isn’t.