I never pump up my vulgarity. I wait for it to arrive in its own terms.

I tell you such fine music waits in the shadows of hell.

Don't fight your demons. Your demons are here to teach you lessons. Sit down with your demons and have a drink and a chat and learn their names and talk about the burns on their fingers and scratches on their ankles. Some of them are very nice.

i am with the roots of flowers entwined, entombed sending up my passionate blossoms as a flight of rockets and argument; wine churls my throat, above me feet walk upon my brain, monkies fall from the sky clutching photographs of the planets, but i seek only music and the leisure of my pain

God is a lonely place without steak.

Let' em learn or let' em die

The human body is mostly blood and mystery and sadness.