“Time is meant to be wasted, love fails and death is useless.”

We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our educational system.

We’ve died so many times now that we can only wonder why we still care.

We are like roses that have never bothered to bloom when we should have bloomed and it is as if the sun has become disgusted with waiting.

Beauty is nothing, beauty won’t stay. You don’t know how lucky you are to be ugly, because if people like you, you know it’s for something else.

Boring damned people. All over the earth. Propagating more boring damned people. What a horror show. The earth swarmed with them.

Sometimes you just have to pee in the sink.

Without literature, life is hell.

Being alone never felt right. sometimes it felt good, but it never felt right.

Sex is interesting, but it’s not totally important.

Anything is a waste of time unless you are fucking well or creating well or getting well or looming toward a kind of phantom – love – happiness.

If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start.

What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.

There are only two things wrong with money: too much or too little.

An intellectual says a simple thing in a hard way. An artist says a hard thing in a simple way.

The wisest thing to do if you’re living in hell is to make yourself comfortable.

Sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think, I’m not going to make it, but you laugh inside – remembering all the times you’ve felt that way.

To finish is sadness to a writer — a little death. He puts the last word down and it is done. But it isn’t really done. The story goes on and leaves the writer behind, for no story is ever done.

His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

Until the day she died, my mother continued to fight for the rights of women. She joined all the women’s movements of the time; she stirred up a lot of revolts. She was a great woman, a great figure. Women today would like her immensely.

All life was a breath exhaled by God. All dying was a breath inhaled by God.

To die is to go into the Collective Unconscious, to lose oneself in order to be transformed into form, pure form.

Death is in truth an illness from which we recover

Learn to feel yourself in other bodies, to know that we are all one. Throw all other nonsense to the winds. Spit out your actions, good or bad, and never think of them again. What is done is done. Throw off superstition. Have no weakness even in the face of death. Be free.

We are all born in the same way but we all die in different ways.