Boswell– you old rake– I have tri… your style; but it is no use; my d… all between my selves: and though… make endless notes and jottings th… my memory– it is in vain– for in t…

All night he lies awake tuning the… tuning the night with its fat crac… with its melancholy love songs cro… across the rainy air above Verdun & the autobahn’s blue suicidal…

I try to keep falling in love if only to keep death at bay.

Next birthday I am thirty-six, & formed (for all intents & purposes) in tooth & claw.

If it is impossible to promise absolute fidelity, this is because we learn so much geography from the shifting of one body

Nobody believes in love– not even me. Love is the thing you wait to end.

I mourn a dead friend, like myself… —Pablo Neruda about César Vallej… I looked at the book. ‘It will stand,’ I thought. Not a palace

The lessons we learned here (fumbling with our lunchbags, handkerchiefs & secret cheeks of bubblegum) were graver than any

You hate the telephone but will not see me face to face so I am left beseeching you

People wish to be settled. Onl… —Thoreau My life has been the instrument for a mouth

Dearest man-in-the-moon, ever since our lunch of cheese & moonjuice on the far side of the sun, I have walked the craters of New…

Is God the one who eats the meat off the bones of dead people? —Molly Miranda Jong—Fast, age 3… God is the one, Molly,

There is only one story: he loved her, then stopped loving her, while she did not stop loving him.

At the edge of the body there is said to be a flaming halo– yellow, red, blue or pure white,

If you ask him he will talk for ho… how at fourteen he hammered signs,… raw with cold, and later painted b… in ladies’ boudoirs; how he played… for two weeks in jail, and lived o…