For here, am I sitting in a tin can, far above the world. Planet Earth is blue, and there's nothing I can do... Though I'm past one hundred thousand miles, I'm feeling very still - and I think my spaceship knows which way to go. Tell my wife I love her very much.

I find it easier to write in these little vignettes; if I try to get any more heavy, I find myself out of my league.

Would you carry a razor, in case, just in case of depression?

I'd rather stay here with all the madmen than perish with the sadmen roaming free.

In fact, in Europe, I'm more kind of this bloke what writes lots of stuff.

The only art I'll ever study is stuff I can steal from.

I think music should be tarted up, made into a prostitute, a parody of itself. It should be the clown, the Pierrot medium.