Time is the coin of your life. You spend it. Do not allow others to spend it for you.
I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way.
A baby is God's opinion that the world should go on.
The moon is friend for the lonesome to talk to.
Life is like an onion; you peel it off one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep.
Nothing happens unless first a dream.
Come clean with a child heart Laugh as peaches in the summer wind Let rain on a house roof be a song Let the writing on your face be a smell of apple orchards on late June.
Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.
Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance.
I'm an idealist. I don't know where I'm going but I'm on the way.
Two bubbles found they had rainbows on their curves. They flickered out saying: "It was worth being a bubble, just to have held that rainbow thirty seconds.
Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.
There is an eagle in me that wants to soar, and there is a hippopotamus in me that wants to wallow in the mud
To work hard, to live hard, to die hard, and then go to hell after all would be too damn hard.
Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what was seen during a moment.
Give me hunger, pain and want, Shut me out with shame and failure From your doors of gold and fame, Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger! But leave me a little love.
Life is an onion - you peel it year by year and sometimes cry.
Time is the most valuable coin in your life. You and you alone will determine how that coin will be spent. Be careful that you do not let other people spend it for you.
Let your heart look on white sea spray and be lonely. Love is a fool star. You and a ring of stars may mention my name and then forget me. Love is a fool star.
I'm either going to be a writer or a bum.
In these times you have to be an optimist to open your eyes when you awake in the morning
Sometime they’ll give a war and nobody will come.
By night the skyscraper looms in the smoke and the stars and has a soul.
Ordering a man to write a poem is like commanding a pregnant woman to give birth to a red-haired child.
Yesterday and tomorrow cross and mix on the skyline. The two are lost in a purple haze. One forgets, one waits.
I am an idealist. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m on my way.
There is a music for lonely hearts nearly always. If the music dies down there is a silence. Almost the same as the movement of music. To know silence perfectly is to know music.
The past is a bucket of ashes
There are some people who can receive a truth by no other way than to have their understanding shocked and insulted
We can never possibly know what is about to happen: it is happening, each time, for the first time, for the only time.
