One of them hissed-not the hiss of a cat, a long, steady tone-more like the hiss of air escaping the rubber raft that is all that lies between you and a dark sea full of sharks, the hiss of your life leaking out at the seams.

Shoes off in the whale! And don't try and make a break for the anus.

Routine feeds the illusion of safety.

I've won Satan's lottery.

Most of us don't live our lives with one, integrated self that meets the world, we're a whole bunch of selves.

The prospect of change is a many-fanged beast, my dear.

Why write a song when no one can play the notes or understand the lyrics?