The empty, the angry, the lonely, the tricked, we are all museums of fear.

Drink from the well of yourself and begin again.

The courage it took to get out of bed each morning to face the same things over and over was enormous.

there must be a way. surely there must be a way that we have not yet thought of. who put this brain inside of me? it cries it demands it says that there is a chance. it will not say "no.

I have one problem, I don’t hate people. They disgust me and I want to get away from them. I do not have hatred. I have an escape mechanism.

Christmas poem to a man in jail hello Bill Abbott: I appreciate your passing around my books in jail there, my poems and stories. if I can lighten the load for some of those guys with my books, fine. but literature, you know, is difficult for the average man to assimilate (and for the unaverage man too); I don't like most poetry, for example, so I write mine the way I like to read it.

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.