Information. What's wrong with dope and women? Is it any wonder the world's gone insane, with information come to be the only real medium of exchange?

Laboring through a world every day more stultified, which expected salvation in codes and governments, ever more willing to settle for suburban narratives and diminished payoffs--what were the chances of finding anyone else seeking to transcend that, and not even particularly aware of it?

For every kind of vampire, there is a kind of cross

Someday it'll all be done by machine. Information machines.

Life's single lesson: that there is more accident to it than a man can ever admit to in a lifetime and stay sane.

Not me, paranoia's the garlic in life's kitchen, right, you can never have too much.

Idle dreaming is often of the essence of what we do.