I still smile it's not worth the trouble any more for a long time now it's not been worth the trouble the tongue spring goes into the mud I stay like this not thirsty any more the tongue goes back into the mouth it closes it has to make a straight line now it's done I've made the image.

Reality, whether approached imaginatively or empirically, remains a surface, hermetic.

Silence and darkness were all I craved. Well, I get a certain amount of both. They being one.

Do you always believe in the life to come? Mine was always that.

I could not have gone through the awful wretched mess of life without having left a stain upon the silence.

I try. I fail. I try again. I fail better.

Birth was the death of him.