“LADY LAZARUSI have done it again.One year in every tenI manage it--A sort of walking miracle, my skinBright as a Nazi lampshade,My right footA paperweight,My face a featureless, fineJew linen.Peel ...”

“I am terrified by this dark thingThat sleeps in me;All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.”

“Is it the sea you hear in me,Its dissatisfactions?Or the voice of nothing, that was you madness?”

“The blood jet is poetryThere is no stopping it.”

“I am inhabited by a cry. Nightly it flaps outLooking, with its hooks, for something to love.”

“Love is a shadow. How you lie and cry after it”

“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of wi...”

“My dear,Find what you love and let it kill you.Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness.Let it kill you and let it devour your remains....”

“If you gave someone your heart and they died, did they take it with them? Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn't be filled?”