He Came After Homer And Before Gertrude

Those Nights Lying Alone Are Not Discontinuous With This Cold Hectic Dawn. It Is Who I Am.

No Need To Fear Death. There Will Be A Tunnel And Light.

Prowling The Meanings Of A Word, Prowling The History Of A Person, No Use Expecting A Flood Of Light. Human Words Have No Main Switch. But All Those Little Kidnaps In The Dark. And Then The Luminous, Big, Shivering, Discandied, Unrepentant, Barking Web Of Them That Hangs In Your Mind When You Turn Back To The Page You Were Trying To Translate.

Time Isn't Made Of Anything. It Is An Abstraction. Just A Meaning That We Impose Upon Motion.

We Are Only Midway Through The Central Verse Of Our Youth When We See Ourselves Begin To Blacken. ... We Had Been Seduced Into Thinking That We Were Immortal And Suddenly The Affair Is Over.