On soft Spring nights I'll stand in the yard under the stars - Something good will come out of all things yet - And it will be golden and eternal just like that - There's no need to say another word.

Because I cannot write my native language and have no native home anymore, and am amazed by that horrible homelessness of all French-Canadian s abroad in America.

I swore I'd be in Chicago tomorrow, and made sure of that, taking a bus to Chicago, spending most of my money, and didn't give a damn, just as long as I'd be in Chicago tomorrow.

I think it's all lovely hallucination but I love it sorta.

My fault, my failure, is not in the passions I have, but in my lack of control of them.

Is Virgin you trying to fathom me

Prison is where you promise yourself the right to live.