If I hadn't been a drunkard, I probably would have committed suicide long ago.

my 6 foot goddess makes me laugh the laughter of the mutilated who still need love... she has saved me from everything that is not here

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

I'll use the knives for spreading jam, and the gas to warm my greying love.

That's the way it ends. The thin edge of the wedge.

writers are desperate people and when they stop being desperate they stop being writers.

And it seems people should not build houses anymore it seems people should stop working and sit in small rooms on second floors under electric lights without shades; it seems there is a lot to forget and a lot not to do and in drugstores, markets, bars, the people are tired, they do not want to move, and I stand there at night and look through this house and the house does not want to be built