By the time I was fourteen the nail in my wall would no longer support the weight of the rejection slips impaled upon it. I replaced the nail with a spike and went on writing.

The world had teeth and it could bite you with them anytime it wanted.

Don't let the door hitcha where the good Lord splitcha.

Rationalism is the idea that we can ever understand anything about the state of being. It's a deathtrip. It always has been. . . . And if rationalism is a deathtrip, then irrationalism might very well be a lifetrip . . . at least until it proves otherwise.

and the rain went rollin down the windowpanes, and the shadows wiggled n' squiggled on her check and forehead like black veins.

I win, you win. You win, I win. The gun, I win. The fruit, you win. I win, you win.

If you intend to write as truthfully as you can, your days as a member of polite society are numbered.