2 p.m. beer nothing matters but flopping on a mattress with cheap dreams and a beer as the leaves die and the horses die and the landladies stare in the halls; brisk the music of pulled shades, a last man's cave in an eternity of swarm and explosion; nothing but the dripping sink, the empty bottle, euphoria, youth fenced in, stabbed and shaven, taught words propped up to die.

A spark can set a whole forest on fire. Just a spark. Save it.

don't be ashamed of anything; I guess God meant it all like locks on doors.

Style is the answer to everything. A fresh way to approach a dull or dangerous thing

Each man's hell is in a different place: mine is just up and behind my ruined face.

The problem with the world is that the intelligent people are full of doubts, while the stupid ones are full of confidence.

I would certainly end up forever crying the blues into a coffee cup in a park for old men playing chess or silly games of some sort.