My aunt once said that the world would never find peace until men fell at their women's feet and asked for forgiveness.

LA is the loneliest and most brutal of American cities.

Everything is ecstasy inside. We just don't know it because of our thinking-minds. But in our true blissful essence of mind [it] is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever.

To the children and the innocent it's all the same.

Things are so hard to figure out when you live from day to day in this feverish and silly world.

the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.

Books, shmooks, this sickness has got me wishing if I can ever get out of this I'll gladly become a millworker and shut my big mouth.