he threw up his hands and wrote the Universe dont exist and died to prove it

An unnoticed corner of the world suddenly becomes noticed, and when you notice something clearly and see it vividly, it becomes sacred. (On Robert Frank's photography)

Unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower O my soul, I loved you then!

There is nothing to be learned from history anymore. We're in science fiction now.

We are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter

what sphinx of cement and aluminium bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination

Everybody's serious but me.