The years have gone by quickly. Death sits in the seat next to me. We make a lovely couple.

one can never be sure whether it's good poetry or bad acid

Dying should come easy: like a freight train you don't hear when your back is turned.

Those faces you see every day on the streets were not created entirely without hope: be kind to them: like you they have not escaped.

the history of melancholia includes all of us.

"Baby," I said. "I'm a genius but nobody knows it but me."

If you have the ability to love, love yourself first.