That Soldiers Do Terrible Things During Wartime

I Believe Poetry Has Very Little To Do With Memory.

By The Time I Make My Way To The Border Of Mauritania, To The Edge Of The Sahara, I See No End To Being Lost. You Can Spend Your Entire Life Simply Falling In That Direction. It Isn't A Station You Reach But Just The General State Of Going Down. Once You Make It Back, If You Make It Back, You Will Stand Before Your Long-lost Friends But In Some Essential Way They Will No Longer Know You.

What You Fear Your Whole Life Comes To Pass. You End Up Living Toward It, You Spend Your Life Running From It But Your Foot Is Nailed To The Sidewalk. You Circle Around It Until You Wear Yourself Own.

We Got Him To Talk To A Psych Doctor Once, The Doctor Asked If He Heard Things Other People Don't. Sure, Paul Answered, I Hear Birds In The Morning When Everyone's Sleeping, I Hear Trees Rustling When No One's Around.

Writers, Especially Poets, Are Particularly Prone To Madness. There Exists A Striking Association Between Creativity And Manic Depression. Why Are More Creative People Prone To Madness? They Have More Than Average Amounts Of Energies And Abilities To See Things In A Fresh And Original Way—then Because They Also Have Depression, I Think They’re More In Touch With Human Suffering.