I am lonesome so regular it's like a job I gotta report to every day.

I'm independent as a hog on ice and a hog on ice is dead, cold, well-preserved and don't need a mother'grabbin, thing.

It becomes almost second nature to be on guard against the creative pattern of our own thought.

Who wants to live with one foot in hell just for the sake of nostalgia Our time is forever now.

your soul is an inner something that is another you and hardly anybody knows what it's really thinkin' except you.

Thoughts can hurt like real pain.

It's a poor kind of man that won't fight for his own freedom.