Through endless night the earth whirls toward a creation unknown.

Life is 440 horsepower in a 2-cylinder engine.

Whoever uses the spirit that is in him creatively is an artist. To make living itself an art, that is the goal.

I saw through to the last sign and symbol, but I could not read her face. I could see only the eyes shining through, huge, fleshy-like luminous beasts, as though I were swimming behind them in the electric effluvia of her incandescent vision.

I don't know whether you've ever had a woman eat an apple while you were doing it. Well, you can imagine how that affects you.

For a hundred years or more the world, our world, has been dying. And not one man, in these last hundred years or so, has been crazy enough to put a bomb up the asshole of creation and set it off. The world is rotting away, dying piecemeal. But it needs the coup de grace, it needs to be blown to smithereens. Not one of us is intact, and yet we have in us all the continents and the seas between the continents and the birds of the air. We are going to put it down ― the evolution of this world which has died but which has not been buried.

Develop an Interest in Life as you see it.