I'm moving to Nevada. Either there or kill myself.

This is awful. I don't know what's going to happen to me or to anyone else in the world.

My heart is broken,” she goes. “It’s turned to a piece of stone. I’m no good. That’s what’s as bad as anything, that I’m no good anymore.

Anyone can express himself or herself, but what writers and poets want to do in their work, more than simply express themselves, is communicate.

A man can go along obeying all the rules and then it don't matter a damn anymore.

Nights without beginning that had no end. Talking about a past as if it'd really happened. Telling themselves that this time next year, this time next year, things were going to be different.

I am a cigarette with a body attached to it