they simply never understand, do they, that sometimes solitude is one of the most beautiful things on earth?

…He was always high on drugs. I was not a drug man, but in case I wanted to hide from myself for a few days, I knew I could get anything I wanted from him.

Maybe when I get in the grave, things will be beautiful.

I am for the small man who has not forgotten, for the man who loves his beer and his women and his sunlight

That the young rich smell the stink of the poor and learn to find it a bit amusing. They had to laugh, otherwise it would be too terrifying.

We use such big words to move nowhere.

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