The happiness consists in realizing that it is all a great strange dream.

I see as much as doors'll allow, open or shut.

It always makes me proud to love the world somehow- hate's so easy compared.

The details are the life of it, I insist, say everything on your mind, don’t hold back, don’t analyze or anything as you go along, say it out.

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

So therefore I dedicate myself, to my art, my sleep, my dreams, my labors, my suffrances, my loneliness, my unique madness, my endless absorption and hunger because I cannot dedicate myself to any fellow being.

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