诗歌是心灵的语言。

我总是告诉我的孩子们，如果你躺下，人们会从你身上跨过去。但如果你继续挣扎，如果你继续前进，总会有人帮助你。

人心真是一个难以琢磨的东西！

唯一真正的快乐来自于为一个目的挥霍自己。

Writing is a way of making sense of the world, and of making sense of ourselves.

Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.

Some people go to priests; others to poetry; I to my friends.

The universe is not queerer than we suppose, but queerer than we can suppose.

我的人生没有方向、没有目标、没有任何意义，而我依然感到很开心。