Inspiration needs disease, injury, madness.

People die', she says. 'People tear down houses. But furniture, fine, beautiful furniture, it just goes on and on, surviving everything.' She says, 'Armoires are the cockroaches of our culture.

We all want to explain ourselves. Nobody wants to be forgotten.

Don't do this. I love you. Don't shut me out.

Burn the Louvre, and wipe your ass with the Mona Lisa. This way at least, God would know our names.

A knife, it felt like a knife, and I'd discovered that despite everything that's happened, I still had an endless untapped potential for getting hurt.

Without access to true chaos, we'll never have true peace. Unless everything can get worse, it won't get any better.