This face is a dog's snout sniffing for garbage, snakes nest in that mouth, I hear the sibilant threat.

Logic and sermons never convince, The damp of the night drives deeper into my soul.

Wisdom is not finally tested by the schools, Wisdom cannot be pass'd from one having it to another not having it, Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof.

God is a mean-spirited, pugnacious bully bent on revenge against His children for failing to live up to his impossible standards.

I will not descend among professors and capitalists.

My little notebooks were beginnings - they were the ground into which I dropped the seed... I would work in this way when I was out in the crowds, then put the stuff together at home.

What is commonest and cheapest and nearest and easiest is Me, Me going in for my chances, spending for vast returns, Adorning myself to bestow myself on the first that will take me, Not asking the sky to come down to my goodwill, Scattering if freely forever.