At the bottom of every frozen heart there is a drop or two of love―just enough to feed the birds.

Imagination is the voice of daring. If there is anything Godlike about God it is that. He dared to imagine everything.

I felt free and chained at the same time - like one feels just before election, when all the crooks have been nominated and you are beseeched to vote for the right man.

I too love everything that flows: rivers, sewers, lava, semen, blood, bile, words, sentences. I love the amniotic fluid when it spills out of the bag. I love the kidney with it's painful gall-stones, it's gravel and what-not; I love the urine that pours out scalding and the clap that runs endlessly; I love the words of hysterics and the sentences that flow on like dysentery and mirror all the sick images of the soul.

I believe in saying the truth, coming out with it cold, shocking if necessary, not disguising it.

Surely every one realizes, at some point along the way, that he is capable of living a far better life than the one he has chosen.

Man, as man, has never realized himself. The greater part of him, his potential being, has always been submerged. What is history if not the endless story of his repeated failures?