I had no Freedom. I had nothing.
I don't know about other people, but when I wake up in the morning and put my shoes on, I think, Jesus Christ, now what?
They were beautiful nothings
you fall into the mirror, come through the other side staring at a lightbulb.
young or old, good or bad, I don't think anything dies as slow and as hard as a writer.
The writing's easy, it's the living that is sometimes difficult.