I told him I believed in hell, and that certain people, like me, had to live in hell before they died, to make up for missing out on it after death, since they didn't believe in life after death, and what each person believed happened to him when he died.

I love him to hell and back and heaven and back, and have and do and will

What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination.

The trouble about jumping was that if you didn't pick the right number of storeys, you might still be alive when you hit bottom.

I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted
To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
How free it is, you have no idea how free——
The peacefulness is so big it dazes you,
And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets.
It is what the dead close on, finally; I imagine them
Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet.

I have stitched life into me like a rare organ