With This Pen I Take In Hand

O Fallen Angel, The Companion Within Me, Whisper Something Holy Before You Pinch Me Into The Grave.

The Beautiful Feeling After Writing A Poem Is On The Whole Better Even Than After Sex, And That's Saying A Lot.

...became A Woman Who Learned Her Own Skin And Dug Into Her Soul And Found It Full.

Writers Are Such Phonies: They Sometimes Have Wise Insights But They Don't Live By Them At All. That's What Writers Are Like...you Think They Know Something, But Usually They Are Just Messes.

I Like You; Your Eyes Are Full Of Language." [letter To Anne Clarke, July 3, 1964.]