Autumn resumes the land, ruffles the woods with smoky wings, entangles them.

Public toilets have a duty to be accessible, poetry does not.

September fattens on vines. Roses flake from the wall. The smoke of harmless fires drifts to my eyes. This is plenty. This is more than enough.

We are difficult. Human beings are difficult. We’re difficult to ourselves, we’re difficult to each other.

Thus I grind to conclusion.

As estimated, you died. Things marched, sufficient, to that end. Just so much Zyklon and leather, patented terror, so many routine cries.

Platonic England, house of solitudes, rests in its laurels and its injured stone

Dig -- the mostly uncouth -- language of grace.

Evil is not good's absence but gravity'severlasting bedrock and its fatal chainsinert, violent, the suffrage of our days.

Who now would thrust enquiry on / Beyond necessity of desire?

There are many sources of happiness. Doing goodness is one of them and one of the best!

The Long Goodbye' is one book I like to read over and over again, and it was an enormous inspiration for 'All The Wrong Questions'.

Curiosity, or the love of knowledge, has a very limited influence, and requires youth, leisure education, genius and example to make it govern any person

I will gladly lecture for fifty dollars, but I'll not be a guest for less than a hundred.

Sometimes I think I prefer the storyteller in [Roman Vishniac] to the photographer. But aren't they one and the same?

The entire world is now a rival to Silicon Valley. No country, state, region, nor city has a lock on innovation in technology anymore.

The impatient man is his own enemy; he slams the door on his own progress.

You have success within. It's up to you to bring it out.

I really, really admire my parents so much, for how they raised me. They're some of the best human beings I know.

We are stone enemies when the bell rings