The park grass looked greener, the park benches looked better and the flowers were trying harder.

I think a man can keep on drinking for centuries, he'll never die; especially wine or beer...I like drunkards, man, because drunkards, they come out of it, and they're sick and they spring back, they spring back and forth...If I hadn't been a drunkard, I probably would have committed suicide long ago.

There are times when those eyes inside your brain stare back at you.

there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too clever, I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody's asleep. I say, I know that you're there, so don't be sad. then I put him back, but he's singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die and we sleep together like that with our secret pact and it's nice enough to make a man weep, but I don't weep, do you?

Some people have written that my writing has helped them go on. It has helped me too. The writing, the roses, the 9 cats.

It's just that the grape has me down.

all that I know is that I believe in the sound of music and the running of a horse. all else is squabble.