You always pay too much. Particularly for promises. There aint no such thing as a bargain promise.

Maybe. Anyway, some men get what they want. No man. Or perhaps only briefly so as to lose it. Or perhaps only to prove to the dreamer that the world of his longing made real is no longer that world at all.

The jagged mountains were pure blue in the dawn and everywhere birds twittered and the sun when it rose caught the moon in the west so that they lay opposed to each other across the earth, the sun whitehot and the moon a pale replica, as if they were the ends of a common bore beyond whose terminals burned worlds past all reckoning.

I'd rather to make a good run as a bad stand.

All progressions from a higher to a lower order are marked by ruins and mystery and a residue of nameless rage.

People think they know what they want but they generally don't. Sometimes if they're lucky they'll get it anyways.

You are either born a writer or you are not.