There was a young lady named Mae Who smoked without stopping all day; As pack followed pack, Her lungs first turned black, And eventually rotted away.
All the things you can talk about in anyone's work are the things that are least important.
When people are finding meaning in things -- beware.
Only art means anything.
I have given up considering happiness as relevant.
My mission in life is to make everybody as uneasy as possible. I think we should all be as uneasy as possible, because that's what the world is like.