Shedding off one more layer of skin, Keeping one step ahead of the persecutor within.

I hate myself for loving you and the weakness that it showed. You were just a painted face on a trip down to suicide road.

It's like my whole life never happened, When I see you, it's as if I never had a thought. I know this dream, it might be crazy, But it's the only one I've got.

On the stone that remains carved next to his name, his epitaph plain, only a pawn in their game.

It's always disappointing when people decide for one reason or another that they don't like your work anymore, but you can't try to please people, because then you're just going to be doing - you'll never live it down, y'know it'll always be dogging you around - you might be being a fake about the whole thing.

Every writer at the New Yorker is smarter than me.

In harmony with cosmic sea, true love needs no company. It can cure the soul, it can make it whole, if dogs run free.