Getting drunk . . . you're in complete control up to a point. It's your choice, every time you take a sip. You have a lot of small choices. It's like . . . I guess it's the difference between suicide and slow capitulation . . .

Do you know how pale & wanton thrillful comes death on a strange hour unannounced, unplanned for like a scaring over-friendly guest you've brought to bed Death makes angels of us all & gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as raven's claws

Let's just say I was testing the bounds of reality. I was curious to see what would happen. That's all it was curiosity.

Where are the feasts we were promised? Where is the wine, the new wine, dying on the vine.

We hide ourselves in our music to reveal ourselves

Out here on the perimeter there are no stars. Out here we is stoned. Immaculate.

Is everybody in?... Is everybody in?... Is everybody in? The ceremony is about to begin... The program for this evening is not new. You've seen this entertainment through and through. You've seen your birth, your life and death. You might recall all the rest. Did you have a good world when you died? Enough to base a movie on?