well, death says, as he walks by, I'm going to get you anyhow no matter what you've been: writer, cab-driver, pimp, butcher, sky-diver, I'm going to get you

I remember awakening one morning and finding everything smeared with the color of forgotten love.

escape from the black widow spider is a miracle as great as art. what a web she can weave slowly drawing you to her she'll embrace you then when she's satisfied she'll kill you still in her embrace and suck the blood from you.

stay with the beer. beer is continuous blood. a continuous lover.

I am ashamed to be a member of the human race but I don't want to add any more to that shame, I want to scrape a little of it off.

bad writing's like bad women: there's just not much you can do about it

It’s never quite right, all the things we are taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we die, all the lives we live.