Most people's deaths are a sham. There's nothing left to die.
We waste days like mad blackbirds and pray for alcoholic nightsour silk-sick human smiles wrap around us like somebody else's confetti
The crazy ones only laugh when there is no reason to laugh.
there is a loneliness in this world so great that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of a clock
we sat there smoking cigarettes at 5 in the morning.
The trouble with these people is that their cities have never been bombed and their mothers have never been told to shut up.