“…But…to sing,to dream, to smile, to walk, to be alone, be free,with a voice that stirs and an eye that still can see!To cock your hat to one side, when you pleaseat a yes, a no, to fight, or- make poetry!To work without a thought of fame or fortune,on that journey, that you dream of, to the moon!Never to write a line that’s not your own…”

“Writing is the dragon that lives underneath my floorboards. The one I incessantly feed for fear it may turn and devour my ass. Writing is the friend who doesn’t return my phone calls; the itch I’m unable to scratch; a dinner invitation from a cannibal; elevator music for a narcoleptic. Writing is the hope of lifting all boats by pissing in the ocean. Writing isn’t something that makes me happy like a good cup of coffee. It’s just something I do because not writing, as I’ve found, is so much worse.”

“As I was staring at the reflection of myself in the mirror of the swanky coffee shop, a thought crossed my mind suddenly and without brakes; that one day I will be staring at the reflection of myself with more success under my belt!”

“As a writer you try to listen to what other’s aren’t saying…and write about the silence.”

“The universal story is composed of segments of anxiety, disappointment, profanity, prayers, heartache, tragedy, and despair.”