I Cannot Understand Why My Arm Is

Out Of The Thousands Who Are Known Or Who Want To Be Known As Poets, Maybe One Or Two Are Genuine And The Rest Are Fakes, Hanging Around The Sacred Precincts, Trying To Look Like The Real Thing.

[i Had A Sense Of Interior Panic].always. I Didn't Really Know What To Call It For A Long Time, But I Have A Friend In Greece Who Used That Word Panic A Lot, And I Found Myself Resisting It, Until I Totally Accepted That As A Precise Description Of My Interior Condition. It Was Mostly Panic From One Moment To The Next. And Nothing Much Else Was Going On.

The Duty Of Lovers Is To Tarnish The Golden Rule

Friend, When You Speak This Carefully I Know It Is Because You Don't Know What To Say.

You Are Locked Into Your Suffering And Your Pleasures Are The Seal.