“Smash the control images. Smash the control machine.”

I don’t have any politics. I feel that as soon as politics arises, things are already in a hopeless state of deterioration.

Silence is only frightening to people who are compulsively verbalizing.

In the magical universe there are no coincidences and there are no accidents. nothing happens unless someone wills it to happen.

I began to get a feeling familiar to me from my bartending days of being the only sane man in a nuthouse. It doesn’t make you feel superior but depressed and scared, because there is nobody you can contact.

Life is a vacation from two eternities, who wants to waste those precious years worrying about what happens when you get back to forever?

Every word is autobiographical, and every word is fiction.

After one look at this planet any visitor from outer space would say ‘I want to see the manager.’

I prefer cats to people, for the most part. Most people aren’t cute at all, and if they are cute they very rapidly outgrow it.

Sometimes paranoia’s just having all the facts.

(1) Never give anything away for nothing. (2) Never give more than you have to give (always catch the buyer hungry and always make him wait). (3) Always take everything back if you possibly can.

Language is a virus from outer space.

Your mind will answer most questions if you learn to relax and wait for the answer.

Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape.

Too perfect to be sexually attractive.

There’s no place for impractical dreamers around here.

You must learn to exist with no religion, no country, no allies. You must learn to live alone in silence.

To be in love is to see yourself as someone else sees you, it is to be in love with the falsified and exalted image of yourself. In love we are incapable of honor – the courageous act is no more than playing a part to an audience of two.

To whom shall I hire myself out? What beast should I adore? What holy image is attacked? What hearts shall I break? What lies shall I uphold? In what blood tread?

Mirrors should reflect a little before throwing back images.

Dear Society’ really is my letter to society where I express the anguish I’ve been caused from such an image-based industry and culture we live in.

I think there’s almost nothing I can’t excuse except perhaps worshiping graven images. That seems to be idiotic.

In the first minute that my soul is infused, the Image of God is imprinted in my soul; so forward is God in my behalf, and so early does he visit me.

Words and images run riot in my head, pursuing, flying, clashing, merging, endlessly. But beyond this tumult there is a great calm, and a great indifference, never really to be troubled by anything again.

You go from dream to dream inside me. You have passage to my last shabby corner, and there, among the debris, you’ve found life. I’m no longer sure which of all the words, images, dreams or ghosts are ‘yours’ and which are ‘mine.’ It’s past sorting out.