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

I greet you from the other side of sorrow and despair, with a love so vast and shattered it will reach you everywhere.

Prayer is translation. A man translates himself into a child asking for all there is in a language he has barely mastered.

The term clinical depression finds its way into too many conversations these days. One has a sense that a catastrophe has occurred in the psychic landscape.

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

Your servant here, he has been told to say it clear, to say it cold: It's over, it ain't going any further And now the wheels of heaven stop you feel the devil's riding crop Get ready for the future: it is murder

In our rags of light, all dressed to kill.