And I said, 'That last thing is what you can't get, Carlo. Nobody can get to that last thing. We keep on living in hopes of catching it once and for all.

Go moan for man. It's the pathos of people that gets us down, all the lovers in this dream.

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.

A fine thing to be talking about angels in this day when common thieves smash the holy rosaries of their victims in the street.

After all, a homeless man has reason to cry, everything in the world is pointed against him.

You can't teach the old maestro a new tune.

I was suddenly left with nothing in my hands but a handful of crazy stars.