In a room wherepeople unanimously maintaina conspiracy of silence, one word of truthsounds like a pistol shot.

The living owe it to those who no longer can speak to tell their story for them.

A true opium of the people is a belief in nothingness after death - the huge solace of thinking that for our betrayals, greed, cowardice, murders we are not going to be judged.

Language is the only homeland.

Men will clutch at illusions when they have nothing else to hold to.

It is sweet to think I was a companion in an expedition that never ends

I have defined poetry as a 'passionate pursuit of the Real.

LearningTo believe you are magnificent. And gradually to discover that you are not magnificent. Enough labor for one human life.

The purpose of poetry is to remind ushow difficult it is to remain just one person, for our house is open, there are no keys in the doors, and invisible guests come in and out at will.

You see how I tryTo reach with wordsWhat matters mostAnd how I fail.

The purpose of poetry is to remind us / how difficult it is to remain just one person...

We pimp our precious lives to the infernal gnashing babble - Follow me! Friend me! Like me! But don't ever know me.

Are we just dreamingIn the city that never sleeps?Cause I can't be seeingWhat my eyes tell me.

After the game the king and pawn go into the same box.

I live now and only now and I will do what I want to do this moment and not what I decided was best for me yesterday.

The more time we spend with Mother nature the more we fall in love with her.

Spin-offs were never really my thing.

Nobody understood what it was like to be black and Jewish... being different from everyone else just made me a lot stronger.

A man does not please long when he has only species of wit.

"Open Arms" has a lot of unison singing in it. And it works: Grown men will come to our gigs and cry during that one.

Look at the reputation they gave him. [Giordano] Bruno without the pyre is a whiskey priest laying waste to the maids of Umbria.