I have only a bare working knowledge of the human brain but it's enough to make me proud to be an American.

Mirrors and images. Or sex and love. These are two separate systems that we miserably try to link.

At night the sky was very near, sprawled in star smoke and gamma cataclysms, but she didn't see it the way she used to, as soul extension, dumb guttural wonder, a thing that lived outside language in the oldest part of her.

Coming and going I am leaving. I will go and come. Leaving has come to me. We all, shall all, will all be left. Because I am here and where. And I will go or not or never. And I have seen what I will see. If I am where I will be. Because nothing comes between me.

We seem to believe it is possible to ward off death by following rules of good grooming.

If the world is where we hide from ourselves, what do we do when the world is no longer accessible? We invent a false name, invent a destiny, purchase a firearm through the mail.

Brilliant people never think of the lives they smash, being brilliant.