That's what I do: I make coffee and occasionally succumb to suicidal nihilism. But you shouldn't worry — poetry is still first. Cigarettes and alcohol follow

But writing poems and letters doesn't seem to do much good.

I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.

I'm more than ever of the opinion that a decent human existence is possible today only on the fringes of society, where one then runs the risk of starving or being stoned to death. In these circumstances, a sense of humor is a great help.

I made this [letter] very long, because I did not have the leisure to make it shorter.

I have only made this letter longer because I have not had the time to make it shorter., 1657)

I am running after you, and life, in desperate pursuit. My dream is that someday you will both turn and let me catch you. That dream carries me through every night... I have enclosed a hundred kisses in this letter. You must count them out carefully and not lose any.

If I never see you again I will always carry youinsideoutsideon my fingertipsand at brain edgesand in centerscentersof what I am ofwhat remains.

You're a hero and a gentleman, you're kind and honest, but more than that, you're the first man I ever truly loved. And no matter what the future brings, you always will be, and I know that my life is better for it.

It's so curious: one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer... and everything collapses.

When a man sends you an impudent letter, sit right down and give it back to him with interest ten times compounded - and then throw both letters in the wastebasket.

I hold that the parentheses are by far the most important parts of a non-business letter.

A woman's best love letters are always written to the man she is betraying.

A letter always feels to me like immortality because it is the mind alone without corporeal friend.

Why is it that you can sometimes feel the reality of people more keenly through a letter than face to face?

I believe in opening mail once a month, whether it needs it or not.

I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world.

My dear mother is determined to master the new technology: she typed an email to me on the computer, printed it out, popped it in an envelope and posted it to me.

The email of the species is deadlier than the mail.

I would have answered your letter sooner, but you didn't send one.