The only thing in the world worth a damn is the strange, touching, pathetic, awesome nobility of the individual human spirit.

All thinking is done with the glands. Logic is added later to tidy things up.

...it isn't foolish or wicked to enjoy. Wickedness is hurting people on purpose. I love what you are and who you are and how you are. You give me great joy. And you make horrible coffee.

The only thing in the world worth a damn is the strange, touching, pathetic, awesome nobility of the individual human spirit.

I am wary of the whole dreary deadening structured mess that we have built into such a glittering top-heavy structure that there is nothing left to see but the glitter, and the brute routines of maintaining it.

As I holed up in the City of Angels, I was also aware of a comforting feeling of anonymity. In the world's biggest third-class city I could pass unnoticed. I spoke the language. I was familiar with the currency. I could drink the water. I could almost breathe the air, late April air, compounded of interesting hydrocarbons.

The only thing that prisons demonstrably cure is heterosexuality.