Natural Man, in our current version, is a disgruntled adolescent.

My obsessions used to be my protectors, but now they have taken me prisoner.

Whatever is spoken of acquires a certain existence.

The New York action painters want their pictures to jump off the walls and chase you down the street.

My regimen is lust and avarice for exercise, gluttony and sloth for relaxation.

The ninety percent of human experience that does not fit into established narrative patterns falls into oblivion.

I trust you because I need you.