They, all of them, seemed to put literary form in front of the actuality and living of life itself.

We must.. We must bring our own light to the darkness

I’ve had so many knives stuck into me, when they hand me a flower I can’t quite make out what it is. It takes time.

The pest, in a sense, is a very superior being to us: he knows where to find us and how--usually in the bath or in sexual intercourse or asleep.

Meanwhile the 3 a.m. drunks of the world would lay in their beds, trying in vain to sleep, and deserving that rest, if they could find it.

there's no clarity. there was never meant to be clarity.

it is good to be sitting some place in public at 2:30 in the afternoon without getting the flesh ripped from your bones.