“It's time that we began to laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again.”

“My reputation as a ladies' man was a joke that caused me to laugh bitterly through the ten thousand nights I spent alone.”

“-You know how to call mealthough such a noise nowwould only confuse the airNeither of us can forgetthe steps we dancedthe words you stretchedto call me out of dustYes I long for younot just as a leaf for weatheror vase for handsbut with a narrow human longingthat makes a man refuseany fields but his ownI wait for you at anunexpected place in your journeylike the rusted keyor the feather you do not pick up.--I WILL NEVER FIND THE FACESFOR ALL GOODBYES I'VE MADE.-For Anyone Dressed in MarbleThe miracle we all are waiting foris waiting till the Parthenon falls downand House of Birthdays is a house no moreand fathers are unpoisoned by renown.The medals and the records of abusecan't help us on our pilgrimage to lust,but like whips certain perverts never use,compel our flesh in paralysing trust.I see an orphan, lawless and serene,standing in a corner of the sky,body something like bodies that have been,but not the scar of naming in his eye.Bred close to the ovens, he's burnt inside.Light, wind, cold, dark -- they use him like a bride.I Had It for a MomentI had it for a momentI knew why I must thank youI saw powerful governing men in black suitsI saw them undressedin the arms of young mistressesthe men more naked than the naked womenthe men crying quietlyNo that is not itI'm losing why I must thank youwhich means I'm left with pure longingHow old are youDo you like your thighsI had it for a momentI had a reason for letting the pictureof your mouth destroy my conversationSomething on the radiothe end of a Mexican songI saw the musicians getting paidthey are not even surprisedthey knew it was only a jobNow I've lost it completelyA lot of people think you are beautifulHow do I feel about thatI have no feeling about thatI had a wonderful reason for not merelycourting youIt was tied up with the newspapersI saw secret arrangements in high officesI saw men who loved their worldlinesseven though they had looked throughbig electric telescopesthey still thought their worldliness was seriousnot just a hobby a taste a harmless affectationthey thought the cosmos listenedI was suddenly fearfulone of their obscure regulationscould separate usI was ready to beg for mercyNow I'm getting into humiliationI've lost why I began thisI wanted to talk about your eyesI know nothing about your eyesand you've noticed how little I knowI want you somewhere safefar from high officesI'll study you laterSo many people want to cry quietly beside you”

“first of all nothing will happen and a little laternothing will happen again”

“They ended every speech with the word hiro, which means: like I said. Thus each man took responsibility for intruding into the inarticulate murmur of the spheres. To hiro they added the word koue, a cry of joy or distress, according to whether it was sung or howled. Thus they essayed to piece the mysterious curtain which hangs between all talking men: at the end of every utterance a man stepped back, so to speak, and attempted to interpret his words to the listener, attempted to subvert the beguiling intellect with the noise of true emotion.”

“It's like a bear stumbling into a beehive or a honey cache: I'm stumbling right into it and getting stuck, and it's delicious and it's horrible and I'm in it and it's not very graceful and it's very awkward and it's very painful and yet there's something inevitable about it.”

“Yeah I missed you since the place got wrecked By the winds of change and the weeds of sex looks like freedom but it feels like death it's something in between, I guess it's closing time.”