Food is good for the nerves and the spirit. Courage comes from the belly – all else is desperation.

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

being alone never felt right. sometimes it felt good, but it never felt right.

as the shadows assume shapes I fight the slow retreat now my once-promise dwindling dwindling now lighting new cigarettes pouring more drinks it has been a beautiful fight still is.

There is only one place to write and that is alone at a typewriter. The writer who has to go into the streets is a writer who does not know the streets. . . when you leave your typewriter you leave your machine gun and the rats come pouring through.

Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?

pain is absurd because it exists, nothing more.