There’s No Preparation For Poetry.

The Truth Is Dark Under Your Eyelids.

A 'truth' Detached And Purified Of Pleasures Of Ordinary Life Is Not Worth A Damn In My View. Every Grand Theory And Noble Sentiment Ought To Be First Tested In The Kitchen-and Then In Bed, Of Course.

If I Believe In Anything, It Is In The Dark Night Of The Soul. Awe Is My Religion, And Mystery Is Its Church.

Making Art In America Is About Saving One's Soul.

The Highest Levels Of Consciousness Are Wordless.