Certainly I was relatively a refined person. No way a tramp.

I owe it all to art books, chocolate and young men.

My life is full of mistakes. They're like pebbles that make a good road.

You can't change the world, you can only change yourself.

I, who wanted danger, adventure, and love

Very few people know how to work. Inspiration, everybody has inspiration. That's just hot air.

And then, of course, most potters, they go in for earth tones and subdued things, and I like color.

The second time I was there I met Marcel Duchamp, and we immediately fell for each other. Which doesn't mean a thing because I think anybody who met Marcel fell for him.

I happen to believe that there is an afterlife

Over and over I'm on the point of giving it up.

A rich poet from Harvard has no sense in his mind, except the aesthetic.

It’s stranger than every strangenessAnd the dreams of all the poetsAnd the thoughts of all the philosophers, That things are really what they seem to beAnd there’s nothing to understand.

There is only one kind of love, but there are a thousand different versions.

I loved you with different words than you knew and that seemed to scare you.

It is my principle that the will of the majority should always prevail.

I would rather be hated every damn day of my life for being real than loved for being something I'm not.

I'm a very private person. My life story isn't for everybody.

The road may bend out of sight at times, but I know what lies ahead: the faraway horses.

For my part, if I consider poetry as an object, I maintain that it is born of the necessity of adding a vocal sound (speech) to the hammering of the first tribal music.

I have always looked at life as a voyage, mostly wonderful, sometimes frightening. In my family and friends I have discovered treasure more valuable than gold.

Onion sauce! Onion Sauce!