I need some older, wiser being to cry to. I talk to God, but the sky is empty, and Orion walks by and doesn't speak.

I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night.

Yes, there is joy, fulfillment and companionship but the loneliness of the soul in its appalling self-consciousness is horrible and overpowering.

The only thing I could think of was turkey neck and turkey gizzards and I felt very depressed.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

The woman is perfected. Her dead Body wears the smile of accomplishment.

There is a certain unique and strange delight about walking down an empty street alone.