What hymns are sung. What praises said. For homemade miracles of bread?

Every poet knows the pun is Pierian, that it springs from the same soil as the Muse?a matching and shifting of vowels and consonants, an adroit assonance sometimes derided as jackassonance.

Life, alas, is very drear. Up with the glass! Down with the beer!

God, though this life is but a wraith, Although we know not what we use, Although we grope with little faith, Give me the heart to fight and lose.

Friendship is like love at its best; not blind but sympathetically all-seeing; a support which does not wait for understanding; an act of faith which does not need, but always has, reason.

Write out of love, write out of instinct, write out of reason. But always for money.

Poetry is the power of defining the indefinable in terms of the unforgettable.

Nothing but blackness above And nothing that moves but the cars... God, if you wish for our love, Fling us a handful of stars!

Come, drink the mystic wine of Night, Brimming with silence and the stars; While earth, bathed in this holy light, Is seen without its scars.

Laughter shall drown the raucous shout; And, though these shelt'ring walls are thin, May they be strong to keep hate out And hold love in.

Why has our poetry eschewed The rapture and response of food? What hymns are sung, what praises said For home-made miracles of bread?

Please." It's one word, but the way I say it means so much more. Please don’t say anything. Please don’t look at me. Please don’t hurt me. Please just stay away. Please.

the best woman is beautiful inside, most forget that the outside is temporary, but it makes most men blind without they thinking what will happen in future.

I believe its a lifestyle choice and like any lifestyle choice it will be what you make of it and how fully you live and enjoy it.

The charms of seclusion are seldom combined with the conveniences of civilization.

Whenever you talk about writing I think you have to remember that it all has a big question mark over it - every word has a big question mark over it.

They kept me in short pants as long as they could, until they were shaving the hair on my legs because it was beginning to photograph.

Trust means we always have questions that we don't have the answers to.

And so, like Moses (cf Ex 3, 5), in spirit we remove the shoes from our feet, on the threshold of the inner sanctuary that each of us must become as we meet the Lord.

1992 is not a year I shall look back on with undiluted pleasure. In the words of one of my more sympathetic correspondents, it hasturned out to be an Annus Horribilis.

Give a man an inch he will try to give you six in return.