I am running through a snowfall which is her thighs, he dramatized in purple. Her thighs are filling up the street. Wide as a snowfall, heavy as huge falling Zeppelins, her damp thighs are settling on the sharp roofs and wooden balconies. Weather-vanes press the shape of roosters and sail-boats into the skin. The faces of famous statues are preserved like intaglios.

Women stand for the objective world for a man. They stand for the thing that you're not and that's what you always reach for in a song.

There are a few things that deal with passion. There's Prozac.

Certainly within any decadent period, you would probably find the purest expressions of conviction, and I do not see that in many of the people I know.

I read with some amusement my reputation as a ladies' man. My friends are amused by that, too, because they know my life.

I’ve seen the nations rise and fall. I’ve heard their stories, heard them all, but love’s the only engine of survival.

She was made of flesh and eyelashes.