Only in Russia poetry is respected--it gets people killed.

The people need poetry that will be their own secret To keep them awake forever, And bathe them in the bright-haired wave of its breathing.

Perhaps the whisper was born before lips, And the leaves in treelessness circled and flew, And those, to whom we impart our experience as bliss, Acquire their forms before we do

My turn shall also come: I sense the spreading of a wing.

Where to start? Everything cracks and shakes, The air trembles with similes, No one world's better than another; the earth moans with metaphors.

Only in Russia poetry is respected - it gets people killed.

Poetry is the plough that turns up time in such a way that the abyssal strata of time, its black earth, appear on the surface.

I love my poor earth because I have seen no other.

Logic is the kingdom of the unexpected. To think logically means to be continually amazed.

Perhaps my whisper was already born before my lips.

I was stopped in the dense Soviet wood by bandits who called themselves my judges.

If it has got four legs and it is not a chair, if it has got two wings and it flies but is not an aeroplane, and if it swims and it is not a submarine, the Cantonese will eat it.

...Tolstoy said, happiness is an allegory, unhappiness a story - then what does that make us?...

I love theatrics and have a huge imagination: Why would I want to sit onstage and sing a bunch of ballads back-to-back?

Just a reminder, if you tell anyone about what happened with Jonah last night, I'll destroy all of my writing and never play music again.

The future of computer power is pure simplicity.

If churches want to play the game of politics, let them pay admission like everyone else.

I should stop expecting so much.

Of course, I didn't tell you about all the times I said I was going to hit one and it didn't happen.

Remember the great adversity of art or anything else is a hurried life.

Never let a boy be your life. They can live in your world, but never make a guy your world.