Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove Dance me to the end of love.

And I'll bury my soul in a scrapbook, with the photographs there and the moths.

We used to play music for fun. Much more than now. Now nobody picks up a guitar unless they're paid for it.

I want to be paid for my work, not work for my pay.

Please make me empty, if I'm empty then I can receive, if I can receive it means it comes from somewhere outside of me, if it comes from outside of me I'm not alone! I cannot bear this loneliness. Above all it is loneliness.

I want history to jump on Canada's spine with sharp skates.

I have to finish it in order to know whether it deserves to survive.