A best friend can tell you things you don't want to tell yourself
I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel absurd.
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked.
I didn't know the names of the flowers - now my garden is gone.
one must verge on the unknown, write toward the truth hitherto unrecognizable of one’s own sincerity, including the avoidable beauty of doom, shame, and embarrassment, that very area of personal self-recognition,(detailed individual is universal remember) which formal conventions, internalized, keep us from discovering in ourselves and others
Well, while I'm here I'll do the work — and what's the work? To ease the pain of living. Everything else, drunken dumbshow.
Which way will the sunflower turn surrounded by millions of suns?
You know, who tells the stories of a culture really governs human behavior. It used to be the parent, the school, the church, the community. Now it's a handful of global conglomerates that have nothing to tell, but a great deal to sell.
You could spend the rest of your life trying to outlive the scars that are left by what you go through in your formative years.
I have cultivated a little crew of people whose opinions I understand. It's like the way you'd follow certain film critics because you know what their criteria are, and you may not agree with them, but you can glean from their opinion how you will feel about a film.
Democracy! Bah! When I hear that I reach for my feather boa!