Security is a kind of death.

The Venus flytrap, a devouring organism, aptly named for the goddess of love.

When I was fourteen, my father decided to initiate me into the ways of manhood, and took me to the local whorehouse. The woman spread her legs, and made me look between them. All I could see was something that looked like a dyin' orchid; consequently, I have never been comfortable around women or orchids.

It's hard enough for me to write what I want to write without me trying to write what you say they want me to write which I don't want to write.

Time rushes towards us with its hospital tray of infinitely varied narcotics, even while it is preparing us for its inevitably fatal operation.

Morning can always be counted on to bring us back to a more realistic level.

We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it.