When it snows in your nose, you catch cold in your brain.

If I had a soul I sold it for pretty words If I had a body I used it up spurting my essence Allen Ginsberg warns you dont follow my path to extinction

Scientist alone is true poet.

Presumably, if you see spirit at the moment it gained access, then it'll be dropped.

The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden of dissatisfaction.

No monster vibration, no snake universe hallucinations. Many tiny jeweled violet flowers along the path of a living brook that looked like Blake's illustration for a canal in grassy Eden: huge Pacific watery shore, Orlovsky dancing naked like Shiva long-haired before giant green waves, titanic cliffs that Wordsworth mentioned in his own Sublime, great yellow sun veiled with mist hanging over the planet's oceanic horizon. No harm.

Candor disarms paranoia.