I finally broke into the prison, I found my place in the chain. Even damnation is poisoned with rainbows.
I don’t really understand that process called reincarnation but if there is such a thing I’d like to come back as my daughter’s dog.
I don’t have any sense or urgency about any of my writing, actually. I don’t think mankind will be damaged if I don’t put out a new album or a new book.
I don’t consider myself a pessimist at all. I think of a pessimist as someone who is waiting for it to rain. And I feel completely soaked to the skin.
I do not think that a saint dissolves the chaos even for himself, for there is something arrogant and warlike in the notion of a man setting the universe in order. It is a kind of balance that is his glory.
I didn’t want to write for pay. I wanted to be paid for what I write.
I did not know until you walked away you had the perfect ass. Forgive me for not falling in love with your face or your conversation.
I am an old scholar, better-looking now than when I was young. That’s what sitting on your ass does to your face.
I always considered myself a minor writer. My province is small and I try to explore it very, very thoroughly.
How can I begin anything new with all of yesterday in me?
He can love the shapes of human beings, the fine and twisted shapes of the heart. It is good to have among us such men, such balancing monsters of love.
God is alive. Magic is afoot. God is alive. Magic is afoot. God is afoot. Magic is alive. Alive is afoot. Magic never died. God never sickened. Many poor men lied. Many sick men lied. Magic never weakened. Magic never hid. Magic always ruled. God is afoot. God was ruler though his funeral lengthened. Though his mourners thickened Magic never fled…
