What a pair of lungs!
There's so much goop inside of us, man, he said, and it all just wants to get out.
The traveling salesmen fed me pills that made the lining of my veins feel scraped out, my jaw ached... I knew every raindrop by its name, I sensed everything before it happened. Like I knew a certain...
Staring at his own face reflected in a cup of bitter karma. For
Sloth kept him in bed awhile. Restlessness drove him downstairs to the tiny court behind his kitchen, where the sun made more mist. Under its warmth everything gave off ghosts. They work from the bric...
No more pretending for him! He was completely and openly a mess. Meanwhile the rest of us go on trying to fool each other.
I’m telling you it’s cold inside the body that is not the body,lonesome behind the face
How could I tell you about it? It was a dream. It didn’t make any fucking sense, man. But I do remember it.
Does everything you touch turn to shit? Does this happen to you every time?No wonder they call me Fuckhead.It's a name that's going to stick.
And yet we were always being found innocent for ridiculous reasons.
[G]ive him this much: death didn't just walk up and inhale him. He wasn't exactly whisked away. He left claw marks on his life.
You’ve never felt good. Your suffering protects you. Pain is the ransom you have gladly paid not to be free.
We can’t always tell the whole story about ourselves.
Sometimes I heard voices muttering in my head, and a lot of the time the world seemed to smolder around its edges. but I was in a little better physical shape every day, I was getting my looks back, a...
Now the colonel seemed to grieve for his President again, because he said, This world spits out a beautiful man like he was poison.
I note that I've lived longer in the past now, than I can expect to live in the future. I have more to remember than I have to look forward to. Memory fades, not much of the past stays, and I wouldn't...
Howling, are you? the Indian said. There it is for you, then. That’s what happens, that’s what they say: There’s not a wolf alive that can’t tame a man.
His eyeballs look like he bought them in a joke shop.
He thought he might as well. There's really only one question.What's that?Did God really kill Himself?Leanna wasn't smiling now. She was staring at him, but softly.Who are you? she asked him.Whatever...
All the modern verse plays, they're terrible they're mostly about the poetry. It's more important that the play is first.