I am a series of small victories and large defeats.

I do not like to work and have no trade but i do like to eat, so this is basic, the basic training of slaves to fear.

young or old, good or bad, I don't think anything dies as slow and as hard as a writer.

there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too clever, I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody's asleep. I say, I know that you're there, so don't be sad. then I put him back, but he's singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die and we sleep together like that with our secret pact and it's nice enough to make a man weep, but I don't weep, do you?

and then there are some who believe that old relationships can be revived and made new again. but please if you feel that way don't phone don't write don't arrive

It is possible to be truly mad and to still exist upon scraps of life.

There may not be a hell, but those who judge may create one. I think people are over-taught. They are over-taught everything. You have to find out by what happens to you, how you will react. I'll have to use a strange term here... "good." I don't know where it comes from, but I feel that there's an ultimate strain of goodness born in each of us. I don't believe in God, but I believe in this "goodness" like a tube running through our bodies. It can be nurtured. It's always magic, when on a freeway packed with traffic, a stranger makes room for you to change lanes... it gives you hope.