Never mistake talking about writing for actual writing.

It's hard to explain and best thing to do is not be false.

I wished I could explain it to those I loved, my mother, to Japhy, but there just weren't any words to describe the nothingness and purity of it. "Is there a certain and definite teaching to be given to all living creatures?" was the question probably asked to beetle browed snowy Dipankara, and his answer was the roaring silence of the diamond.

He seems to me to be headed for his ideal fate, which is compulsive psychosis dashed with a jigger of psychopathic irresponsibility and violence

Maybe that's what life is... a wink of the eye and winking stars.

It was the work of the quiet mountains, this torrent of purity at my feet.

Prison is where you promise yourself the right to live.