“By the flow of the inland river,Whence the fleets of iron have fled,Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,Asleep are the ranks of the dead”

“I followed the river to the shallows where it spoke of its bed, in whispering tones as gentle as the sun's growing warmth.”

“She’s never where she is,” I said. “She’s only inside her head.”

“The people who denied who they were or where they had been were in the greatest danger. They were blind sleepwalkers on tightropes, fingers scoring thin air.”

“Always learn poems by heart. They have to become the marrow in your bones. Like Fluoride in the water, they'll make your soul impervious to the worlds soft decay.”

“I fled Him down the nights and down the daysI fled Him down the arches of the yearsI fled Him down the labyrinthine waysOf my own mind, and in the midst of tearsI hid from him, and under running laughter.”

“Things weren’t real to you. They were just raw material for you to reshape to tell a story you liked better. You could never just listen to a boy play guitar, you’d have to turn it into a poem, make it all about you.”