I visualize the day that tridents and pentagrams are thrust into the sky from church roofs instead of crosses.

I feel that what is probably the greatest enemy of longevity is popularity, and most people die of popularity.

I thought, acted, and thereupon found myself removed.

Don't let that little pyramid with the bright eye fool you. That's to draw your attention away from the real thing: the big trapezoid beneath it.

In this arid wilderness of steel and stone I raise up my voice that you may hear. To the East and to the West I beckon. To the North and to the South I show a sign proclaiming: Death to the weakling, wealth to the strong!

The ideal woman to me would be the gun-toting moll. Someone who is true blue and ready to face the world. Open to ideas and suggestion, not stubborn and closed minded.

Mysterious beings we seek from birth; what does that mean to me? Something we seek, and as we age it becomes more elusive, yet our spirit remains willing, but our flesh grows weak.