Any time you're throwin dirt you're losin ground.

The freedom of birds is an insult to me.

What he could bear in the waking world he could not by night and he sat awake for fear the dream would return.

There is no later. This is later.

What deity in the realms of dementia, what rabid god decocted out of the smoking lobes of hydrophobia could have devised a keeping place for souls so poor as is this flesh. This mawky worm-bent tabernacle.

My daddy used to tell me not to chew on somethin that was eatin you.

Hard weather, says the old man. So let it be. Wrap me in the weathers of the earth, I will be hard and hard. My face will wash rain like the stones.