Everyone Forgets Icarus Also Flew.

What We Feel Most Has No Name But Amber, Archers, Cinnamon, Horses And Birds.

I Believe That Icarus Was Not Failing As He Fell, But Just Coming To The End Of His Triumph.

When I Was Walking In The Mountains With The Japanese Man And Began To Hear The Water, He Said, 'what Is The Sound Of The Waterfall?' 'silence,' He Finally Told Me.

Duende I Can't Remember Her Name. It's Not As Though I've Been In Bed With That Many Women. The Truth Is I Can't Even Remember Her Face. I Kind Of Know How Strong Her Thighs Were, And Her Beauty. But What I Won't Forget Is The Way She Tore Open The Barbecued Chicken With Her Hands, And Wiped The Grease On Her Breasts.

I Like Ornament At The Right Time, But I Don't Want A Poem To Be Made Out Of Decoration ... When I Read The Poems That Matter To Me, It Stuns Me How Much The Presence Of The Heart-in All Its Forms-is Endlessly Available There. To Experience Ourselves In An Important Way Just Knocks Me Out. It Puzzles Me Why People Have Given That Up For Cleverness. Some Of Them Are Ingenious, More Ingenious Than I Am, But So Many Of Them Aren't Any Good At Being Alive.