“There’s never an end for the sea.”

There is no escape from yesterday because yesterday has deformed us, or been deformed by us. The mood is of no importance. Deformation has taken place.

What do I know of man’s destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.

You won’t believe what you can accomplish by attempting the impossible with the courage to repeatedly fail better.

We are all born crazy. Some remain that way.

Dear incomprehension, it’s thanks to you I’ll be myself, in the end.

The whisky bears a grudge against the decanter.

The day you die is just like any other, only shorter.

Against the charitable gesture there is no defence.

Then I went back into the house and wrote, It is midnight. The rain is beating on the windows. It was not midnight. It was not raining.

With all this darkness round me I feel less alone.

Art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear

People are bloody ignorant apes.

Better hope deferred than none.

All mankind is us, whether we like it or not.

Any fool can turn a blind eye but who knows what the ostrich sees in the sand.

To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.

You greet people and are fooled by their smiles. I greet people and I’m haunted by the pain in their eyes.

Tonight skin on skin is not close enough. I want to feel you deep within.

She believes that she’s learnt to stay alone. Deep down in her heart she feels lonely.

The more natural the connection, the more devastating the disconnect.

Sometimes the prettiest souls are hiding the most violent demons.

Those who broke you were once the glue that held your pieces together.

When you’re in love, you go beyond; not far.

You were the sun to me, but tell me how come your sunbeams have so many shadows?