Most people love you for who you pretend to be.

I believe in a long, prolonged, derangement of the senses in order to obtain the unknown.

The grand highway is crowded w/lovers & searchers & leavers so eager to please & forget. Wilderness.

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

The best songs come unasked for. You don't have to think about them . . . Summer is good for songs. When it's real warm, if you have a sense of freedom, not a lot on your mind, and a feeling there's plenty of time, it just seems to be a good climate for music.

It may have been in pieces, but I gave you the best of me.

Music is your only friend until the end...