I died in my boots like a pioneer With the whole wide sky above me.

We thought we were done with these things but we were wrong. We thought, because we had power, we had wisdom.

I do think that the kind of writing that I do will always be around and printed in books, magazines, and now blogs.

One cannot balance tragedy in the scales Unless one weighs it with the tragic heart.

Money is sullen And wisdom is sly, But youth is the pollen That blows through the sky And does not ask why.

Truth is a hard deer to hunt. If you eat too much truth at once, you might die of the truth.

We do not fight for the real but for shadows we make. A flag is a piece of cloth and a word is a sound, But we make them something neither cloth nor a sound, Totems of love and hate, black sorcery-stones.