I suddenly began to realize that everybody in America is a natural-born thief.

Here I was at the end of America...no more land...and nowhere was nowhere to go but back

Ah Japhy you taught me the final lesson of them all, you can't fall off a mountain.

If critics say your work stinks it's because they want it to stink and they can make it stink by scaring you into conformity with their comfortable little standards. Standards so low that they can no longer be considered "dangerous" but set in place in their compartmental understandings.

Dean and I both swayed to the rhythm and the IT of our final excited joy in talking and living to the blank traced end of all innumerable riotous angelic particulars that had been lurking in our souls all our lives.

It is not my fault that certain so-called bohemian elements have found in my writings something to hang their peculiar beatnik theories on.

If moderation is a fault, then indifference is a crime.