This world is half the devil's and my own, Daft with the drug that's smoking in a girl and curling round the bud that forks her eye.

I sang in my chains like the sea

Hands have not tears to flow.

To begin at the beginning: It is a spring moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black.

Now behind the eyes and secrets of the dreamers in the streets rocked to sleep by the sea, see the titbits and topsyturvies, bobs and buttontops, bags and bones, ash and rind and dandruff and nailparings, saliva and snowflakes and moulted feathers of dreams, the wrecks and sprats and shells and fishbones, whale-juice and moonshine and small salt fry dished up by the hidden sea.

I do not need any friends. I prefer enemies. They are better company and their feelings towards you are always genuine.

Man’s wants remain unsatisfied till death. Then, when his soul is naked, is he one With the man in the wind, and the west moon, With the harmonious thunder of the sun