[As a very young man, I thought] of Europe as a place that could not exist except in the imagination, in glorious dreams, and through the careful lies of the silver screen.
I'm a wanderessI'm a one night standDon't belong to no cityDon't belong to no man(Note: These lyrics were inspired by Roman Payne's quote from his novel "The Wanderess".)
The moment her hymen was plucked from her body in the wilderness, Her soul was taken from sanity.
The birthing wolf,Her heart fed with tenderness,Gave forth from ripe brown nipples,Food to feed the universe.
She wakes in a puddle of sunlight.Her hands asleep beside her.Her hair draped on the lawnlike a mantle of cloth.I give her my trothfor our love is whole;her breath is my wine,her scent is my soul.
Wanderess, Wanderess, weave us a story of seduction and ruse. Heroic be the Wanderess, the world be her muse.
All that I desire in life are three...A wilderness: A beach on the sun-drenched sea,A puff of opium,And thee.
Wine gives one 'ideas,' whereas champagne gives one 'strategies.
If a writer writes something that he or she has never experienced, I think the reader can sense right away that it is garbage. The only thing that can replace experience, though, is imagination; howev...
I believe you can consider yourself a successful prose writer when the number of words you put on a page each day is equal to, or greater than, the number of milligrams of mind-altering chemicals you...
Who worries for dying? If I close my eyes tonight, I will either dream, or not, or my eyes will open and I will be here again. And if none of those happen, and I do not wake? Who worries for dying?
Showing 21 to 31 of 31 results