Well, now you know me. You know I don't have close relationships with anybody any more - I don't know what to do with these things. I hold things in my hand like pieces of crap and don't know where to put it down.

I was going to rise, do some typing and coffee drinking in the kitchen all day since at that time work, work was my dominant thought, not love- not the pain which impels me to write this even while I don't want to, the pain which won't be eased by writing of this but heightened, but which will be redeemed, and if only it were a dignified pain and could be placed somewhere other than this black gutter of shame and loss and noisemaking folly in the night... /The Subterraneans

I'm not going to have the TV personality and be like, 'There's no bitterness. There's no ugliness.' There's bitterness. There's ugliness. There's pain. There's greed. There's malice, and there's hurt. That's all good stuff for any kind of art. I'm not necessarily feeding that side of myself, and I try not to encourage it too much.

Surviving Is the only war we can afford.

The secret of life, though, is to fall seven times and to get up eight times.

It's the impeded stream that sings.

Live your life so that whenever you lose, you are ahead.

Face the giants in your life, slay them, and move on. Do not be daunted by the mistakes and failures in your life.

you leave the cage, the transition into the jungle will definitely be challenging. You take a few steps forward and a few back. You stumble and fall and get back on your feet. Such is the way we learn to lean forward and keep stumbling toward success.

both success and struggle are different kinds of trauma.

Instincts under pressure crush the carbon of conformity and create diamonds.

I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord (Psalm 118:17).