We're reaching for death on the end of a candle We're trying for something that's already found us

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

In the holy solipsism of the young Now I can't walk thru a city street w/out eying each single pedestrian. I feel thier vibe thru my skin, the hair on my neck --- it rises.

I can kind of envision one person with a lot of machines, tapes, and electronic set-ups...singi ng or speaking and using machines.

Each day is a drive through history.

The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are. You trade in your reality for a role. You give up your ability to feel, and in exchange, put on a mask.

We fear violence less than our own feelings. Personal, private, solitary pain is more terrifying than what anyone else can inflict.