Exorcism is a subject that interests me, and books on shamanism, I've read through.

When all lies, deceit, pretense is stripped away, what remains? The truth of a painting, or a book or a man.

He is a boy sleeping against the mosque wall, ejaculates wet dreaming into a thousand cunts pink and smooth as sea shells.

Death was in every sell of his body. He gave off a faint, greenish steam of decay. Lee imagined he would glow in the dark.

NOTHING happens by coincidence.

Americans have a special horror of giving up control, of letting things happen in their own way without interference.

Nothing exists until or unless it is observed. An artist is making something exist by observing it. And his hope for other people is that they will also make it exist by observing it. I call it 'creative observation.' Creative viewing.