Every day in the mirror I watch death at work.

What uniform can I wear to hide my heavy heart? It is too heavy. It will always show.

Nothing ever gets anywhere. The earth keeps turning round and gets nowhere. The moment is the only thing that counts.

The hot hall full of painted girls and American soldiers is a saloon in some Western film. This noise drenches us, wakens us to do something else. It shows us a lost path.

Don't for a moment believe He was killing the young; He was costuming angels.

I feel myself inhabited by a force or being -- very little known to me. It gives the orders; I follow.

If it has to choose who is to be crucified, the crowd will always save Barabbas.