I had not taken a bath in a year nor changed my clothes or removed them except to stick a needle every hour in the fibrous grey wooden flesh of heroin addiction. I did absolutely nothing.

No one owns life, but anyone who can pick up a frying pan owns death.

Dream long enough and dream hard enough you will come to know dreaming can make it so.

Man must get away from verbal forms to attain the consciousness, that which is there to be perceived at hand.

Death needs time for what it kills to grow in.

I know this one pusher walks around humming a tune and everybody he passes takes it up. He is so grey and spectral and anonymous they don't see him and think it is their own mind humming the tune.

I feel that any form of so called psychotherapy is strongly contraindicated for addicts. The question Why did you start using narcotics in the first place? should never be asked. It is quite as irrelevant to treatment as it would be to ask a malarial patient why he went to a malarial area.