… and we are in bed together laughing and we don’t care about anything.

It was hard for me to believe. When recess was over I sat in class and thought about it. My mother had a hole and my father had a dong that shot juice. How could they have things like that and walk around as if everything was normal, and talk about things, and then do it and not tell anybody?

My objection to war was not that I had to kill somebody or be killed senselessly, that hardly mattered. What I objected to was to be denied the right to sit in a small room and starve and drink cheap wine and go crazy in my own way and at my own leisure.

a good book can make an almost impossible existence, liveable ( from 'the luck of the word' )

My flesh looked like it wasn't trying. It looked like it hated being part of me.

there are so many days when living stops and pulls up and sits and waits like a train on the rails.

Love breaks my bones and I laugh