“I didn’t know what to say. I felt like crying, Goddammit everybody in the world wants an explanation for your acts and for your very being.”

I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.

Live, travel, adventure, bless, and don’t be sorry.

While looking for the light, you may suddenly be devoured by the darkness and find the true light.

There’s wisdom in wine.

Pain or love or danger makes you real again.

Life must be rich and full of loving–it’s no good otherwise, no good at all, for anyone.

The beauty of things must be that they end.

Pretty girls make graves.

I feel guilty for being a member of the human race.

So long and take it easy, because if you start taking things seriously, it is the end of you.

No fear or shame in the dignity of your experience, language, and knowledge.

Put down the pen someone else gave you. No one ever drafted a life worth living on borrowed ink.

I want to work in revelations, not just spin silly tales for money. I want to fish as deep down as possible into my own subconscious in the belief that once that far down, everyone will understand because they are the same that far down.

I came to a point where I needed solitude and just stop the machine of ‘thinking’ and ‘enjoying’ what they call ‘living’, I just wanted to lie in the grass and look at the clouds.

I realized either I was crazy or the world was crazy; and I picked on the world. And of course I was right.

You can’t live in this world but there’s nowhere else to go.

As I pen these words, tears flow from my pained heart onto my trembling lips, and the soul seeks release from daily abuse.

We suffered. We worried. We lost. We wept. But loved, and laughed, and cared, and helped.

And still as an adult like I do as well, you know what I mean like I literally just cried in the first interview that I had today. Like, I’m just a very emotional human.

Illness and problems are the specialties of life. But the death of a child is a cause of mental agony which can be overcome if one concedes this world to be a stage or stadium wherein praiseworthy are those who are not proud of their achievement and those who do not cry at their defeat.

Be happy with those who are happy, and cry with those who are crying.

Be happy with those who are happy, and cry with those who are crying.

Be happy with those who are happy, and cry with those who are crying.

The one fact that I would cry form every housetop is this: the Good Life is waiting for us – here and now.