A man searching for paradise lost can seem a fool to those who never sought the other world.

I want to have my kicks before the whole shithouse goes up in flames.

I like to let each thing happen - direct it a little consciously, maybe - but just kind of follow the vibrations I get in each particular circumstance. We don't plan theatrics. We hardly ever know which set we'll play.

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

There may be a time when we'll attend Weather Theaters to recall the sensation of rain.

Cancel my subscription to the resurrection.

The world becomes an apparently infinite, yet possibly finite, card game. Image combinations, permutations, comprise the world game.