Put your mouthful of words away and come with me to watch the lilies open in such a field, growing there like yachts, slowly steering their petals without nurses or clocks.
It would be pleasant to be drunk.
Not that it was beautiful, but that I found some order there.
O starry night, This is how I want to die
I am so imperfect, can you love me when really my soul is deformed? Will you love me anyhow?
... man is eating the earth up like a candy bar.