“Poets are born knowing the language of angels.”

“In your language you have a form of poetry called the sonnet…There are fourteen lines, I believe, all in iambic pentameter. That’s a very strict rhythm or meter…And each line has to end with a rigid pattern. And if the poet does not do it exactly this way, it is not a sonnet…But within this strict form the poet has complete freedom to say whatever he wants…You’re given the form, but you have to write the sonnet yourself. What you say is completely up to you.”

“Artistic temperament sometimes seems a battleground, a dark angel of destruction and a bright angel of creativity wrestling.”

“I think your mythology would call them fallen angels. War and hate are their business, and one of their chief weapons is un-Naming - making people not know who they are. If someone knows who he is, really knows, then he doesn't need to hate. That's why we still need Namers, because there are places throughout the universe like your planet Earth. When everyone is really and truly Named, then the Echthroi will be vanquished.”

“Light and darkness dancing together, born together, born of each other, neither preceding, neither following, both fully being in joyful rhythm.”

“Darkness was and darkness was good. As with light. Light and Darkness dancing together, born together, born of each other, neither preceding, neither following, both fully being, in joyful rhythm.”

“The earth will never be the same againRock, water, tree, iron, share this greifAs distant stars participate in the pain.A candle snuffed, a falling star or leaf,A dolphin death, O this particular lossA Heaven-mourned; for if no angel criedIf this small one was tossed away as dross,The very galaxies would have lied.How shall we sing our love's song nowIn this strange land where all are born to die?Each tree and leaf and star show howThe universe is part of this one cry,Every life is noted and is cherished,and nothing loved is ever lost or perished.”