Eager for bread and love.

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

Why did I allow myself to be bored ever in the past and to compensate for it got high or drunk or rages or all the tricks people have because they want anything but serene understanding of just what there is, which is after all so much.

It no longer makes me cry and die and tear myself to see her go because everything goes away from me like that now — girls, visions, anything, just in the same way and forever and I accept lostness forever.

Don't think of words when you stop but to see picture better.

As far as I'm concerned the only thing to do is sit in a room and get drunk

I was a man of the earth, precisely as I had dreamed I would be.