I was halfway across America, at the dividing line between the East of my youth and the West of my future.

How clear the realization one is going mad -- the mind has a silence, nothing happens in the physique, urine gathers in your loins, your ribs contract.

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

..and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didnt know who I was

Rocks are space, and space is illusion.

And the story of love is a long sad tale ending in graves.

She talks with a broken heart - Her voice lutes brokenly like a heart lost, musically too, like in a lost grove, it's almost too much to bear sometimes like some fantastic futuristic Jerry Southern singer in a nightclub who steps up to the mike in the spotlight in Las Vegas but doesn't even have to sing, just talk, to make men sigh and women wonder I guess.