“En gammel Poët haver sagt: Nulla fides pietasqve viris, qvi castra seqvuntur: Man finder hverken Redelighed eller Gudsfrygt i Krigs-Standen. Men, saasom det er Poëter tilladt at lyve saa meget som dem lyster, saa reflecterer ingen meget her paa.”
“Traveling down a road of self-destruction With no room for any reconstruction”
“give me a pillow of strong ever-dependable shoulders that i can bury my head in.”
“A single poem is worth a hundred cozy winter nights kind words and healed wounds.”
“How strange and ironic it is- all the words i long to say are lost in words.”
“It is kind of ridiculous that a poet is expected to live in the real world.”
“Your words... I hold them deep like ancient skins hold wrinkles.”