I knew the alphabet. Maybe I could be a writer.

...and the night was comfortably warm as the soft filtered light continued to push the darkness into the shadows as they held each other and kissed and pushed each others darkness into the corner, believing in each others light, each others dream.

Everything about it was wrong. Thats why it worked so good.

I knew the alphabet. Maybe I could be a writer.

The responsibility of the artist is to transcend the human ego.

But you cant shut everyone out. I mean you have to have someone to love. . .someone to hold on to. . . someone--

Eventually we all have to accept full and total responsibility for our actions, everything we have done, and have not done.