If you pluck out my heart To find what makes it move, You’ll halt the clock That syncopates our love.

God has to remind us this isn't heaven by a long shot, so he increases the radios and lethal flies.

Go out and do something. It isn’t your room that’s a prison, it’s yourself.

Oh, something is there, waiting for me. Perhaps someday the revelation will burst in upon me and I will see the other side of this monumental grotesque joke. And then I'll laugh. And then I'll know what life is.

Oh what a poet I will flay myself into.

Doing all the little tricky things it takes to grow up, step by step, into an anxious and unsettling world.

I'm never going to get married." "You're crazy." Buddy brightened. "You'll change your mind." "No. My mind's made up.