In a more universal sense, we only get one thing. You know...a head stone if we're lucky; if not, green grass.

she’s mad, but she’s magic.

If you want to create, you'll create.

A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.

I was only kidding about the hundred," she says. oh," I say, "what will it cost me?" she lights her cigarette with my lighter and looks at me through the flame: her eyes tell me. look," I say, "I don't think I can ever pay that price again.

The world is full of boring, identical and mindless people.

I am too sick to lay down the sidewalks frighten me the whole damned city frightens me, what I will become what I have become frightens me.