They build their own Hells.

Yeah," I said, "but you're an artist. You don't believe in decency and honesty and gratitude. Where shall we eat?

Vanity of vanities… all is vanity.’ You kill yourself to get to the grave. Especially you kill yourself to get to the grave before you die; and the name of the grave is ‘success’, the name of that grave is hullabullo boom boom horseshit.

We lay on our backs looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when he made life so sad and disinclined.

I don't wanta hear all your word descriptions of words words words you made up all winter, man I wanta be enlightened by actions.

Struggle to sketch the flow that already exists intact in mind.

Your Buddhism has made you mean Ray and makes you even afraid to take your clothes off for a simple healthy orgy