An intellectual says a simple thing in a hard way. An artist says a hard thing in a simple way.

And don't forget: time is meant to be wasted, love fails and death is useless.

Each man's hell is in a different place: mine is just up and behind my ruined face.

alone with everybody the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and sometimes a soul, and the women break vases against the walls and them men drink too much and nobody finds the one but they keep looking crawling in and out of beds. flesh covers the bone and the flesh searches for more than flesh. there's no chance at all: we are all trapped by a singular fate. nobody ever finds the one. the city dumps fill the junkyards fill the madhouses fill the hospitals fill the graveyards fill nothing else fills.

Show me a man who lives alone and has a perpetually clean kitchen, and 8 times out of 9 I'll show you a man with detestable spiritual qualities.

Do you hate people? I don't hate them...I just feel better when they're not around.

Find what you love and let it kill you.