Pretty girls make graves

My eyes were glued on life and they were full of tears.

and nobody knows what’s going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old

What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? - it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-by. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.

Something great is about to happen to me: I'm about to love somebody very much.

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.

and don't you know that God is Pooh Bear?