Poets are damned… but see with the eyes of angels.

— Allen Ginsberg

Poets are Damned... but See with the Eyes of Angels.

— Allen Ginsberg

So he said, 'What would you like to do? What is your desire really?' I said, 'Doctor, I don't think you're going to find this very healthy and clear, but I really would like to stop working forever–never work again, never do anything like the kind of work I’m doing now–and do nothing but write poetry and have leisure to spend the day outdoors and go to museums and see friends.

— Allen Ginsberg

Thank God I am not God! Thank God I am not God!

— Allen Ginsberg

The only thing that can save the world is the reclaiming of the awareness of the world. That's what poetry does.

— Allen Ginsberg

The real America that Whitman proclaimed and Thoreau decoded.

— Allen Ginsberg

The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden of dissatisfaction the weight, the weight we carry is love. Who can deny? In dreams, it touches the body, in thought constructs a miracle, in imagination anguishes till born in human-- looks out of the heart burning with purity-- for the burden of life is love, but we carry the weight wearily, and so must rest in the arms of love at last, must rest in the arms of love. No rest without love, no sleep without dreams of love-- be mad or chill obsessed with angels or machines, the final wish is love --cannot be bitter, cannot deny, cannot withhold if denied: the weight is too heavy --must give for no return as thought is given in solitude in all the excellence of its excess. The warm bodies shine together in the darkness, the hand moves to the center of the flesh, the skin trembles in happiness and the soul comes joyful to the eye-- yes, yes, that's what I wanted, I always wanted, I always wanted, to return to the body where I was born.

— Allen Ginsberg

The world is holy! The soul is holy! The skin is holy! The nose is holy! The tongue and cock and hand and asshole holy! Everything is holy! Everybody's holy! Everywhere is holy! every day is in eternity! Every man's an angel!

— Allen Ginsberg

We are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter

— Allen Ginsberg

We're all golden sunflowers inside.

— Allen Ginsberg