But the more I read... after awhile... I begin to find they were all writing about the same thing, this same dull old here-today-gone-tomorrow scene... Shakespeare, Milton, Matthew Arnold, even Baudelaire, even this cat whoever he was that wrote Beowulf... the same scene for the same reasons and to the same end, whether it was Dante with his pit or Baudelaire with his pot... the same dull old scene...

Loved. You can't use it in the past tense. Death does not stop that love at all.

I've found psychedelics to be keys to worlds that have always existed, that have to be talked about.

You seem to forget, Miss Flinn, that this is an institution for the insane.

We think we’re in the present, but we aren't. The present we know is only a movie of the past.

I believe that a man should be... as big as he feels it in him to be!

I've enjoyed being a famous writer-except that every once in a while you have to write something.