I took a straight picture that made me look like a thirty-year-old Italian who'd kill anybody who said something against his mother.

Because he had no place he could stay in without getting tired of it and because there was nowhere to go but everywhere, keep rolling under the stars.

...we all must admit that everything is fine and there's no need in the world to worry, and in fact we should realize what it would mean to us to UNDERSTAND that we're not REALLY worried about ANYTHING.

We tiptoed around each other like heartbreaking new friends.

You seek identity in the midst of indistinguishab le chaos, in sprawling nameless reality.

Man, wow, there's so many things to do, so many things to write! How to even begin to get it all down and without modified restraints and all hung-up on like literary inhibitions and grammatical fears.

The best teacher is experience and not through someone's distorted point of view