Consider the impasse of a one-God universe. He is all-knowing and all-powerful. He can't go anywhere, since He is already everywhere. He can't do anything, since the act of doing presupposes opposition. His universe is irrevocably thermodynamic, having no friction by definition. So, He has to create friction: War, Fear, Sickness, Death, to keep his dying show on the road.

Cheat your landlord if you can -- and must -- but do not try to shortchange the Muse.

I think if a writer is not endeavoring to expand and alter consciousness in himself and in his readers, he is not doing much of anything. It is precisely words, word lines, lines of words and images, and associations connected with these word and image lines in the brain, that keep you in present time, right where you are sitting now.

My relationship with cats has saved me from a deadly and pervasive ignorance.

The best way to keep something bad from happening is to see it ahead of time... and you can't see it if you refuse to face the possibility.

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

Black magic operates most effectively in preconscious, marginal areas. Casual curses are the most effective.