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Living might mean taking chances, but they're worth taking. Loving might be a mistake. but its worth making

Life is problems. Living is solving problems.

Throw up into your typewriter every morning. Clean up every noon.

there isn't enough of anythingas long as we live. But at intervalsa sweetness appears and, given a chanceprevails.

But I can hardly sit still. I keep fidgeting, crossing one leg and then the other. I feel like I could throw off sparks, or break a window--maybe rearrange all the furniture.

It ought to make us feel ashamed when we talk like we know what we're talking about when we talk about love.

Late FragmentAnd did you get whatyou wanted from this life, even so?I did.And what did you want?To call myself beloved, to feel myselfbeloved on the earth.

That's all we have, finally, the words, and they had better be the right ones.

Having children is like living in a frat house - nobody sleeps, everything's broken, and there's a lot of throwing up.

Time is what keeps everything from happening at once.

Every morning I jump out of bed and step on a landmine. The landmine is me. After the explosion, I spend the rest of the day putting the pieces together.

First you jump off the cliff and build your wings on the way down.