you are yesterday's bouquet so sadly raided

Some people like what you do, some people hate what you do, but most people simply don't give a damn.

People just don't know how to write down a simple easy line. It's difficult for them; it's like trying to keep a hard-on while drowning - not many can do it.

Animals never worry about Heaven or Hell. Neither do I. Maybe that's why we get along.

too often, the only escape is sleep

They have no idea that it can be done by a bus driver, a field hand, or a fry cook. They have no idea where it comes from. It comes from pain, damnation and impossibility. The blow to the soul of the gut. It comes from getting burned and seared and slugged. It comes from...new and awful places and the same old places.

in this room the hours of love still make shadows.