“I take a sun bath and listen to the hours, formulating, and disintegrating under the pines, and smell the resiny hardihood of the high noon hours. The world is lost in a blue haze of distances, and the immediate sleeps in a thin and finite sun.”

People are like almanacs, Bonnie – you never can find the information you’re looking for, but the casual reading is well worth the trouble.

I love you, even if there isn’t any me, or any love, or even any life. I love you.

Why do we spend years using up our bodies to nurture our minds with experience and find our minds turning then to our exhausted bodies for solace?

We get something to do and as soon as we’ve got it, it gets us.

We grew up founding our dreams on the infinite promise of American advertising.

Oh, we are going to be so happy away from all the things that almost got us but couldn’t quite because we were too smart for them!

Death is the only real elegance.

Nothing could have survived our life.

Being in love, she concluded, is simply a presentation of our pasts to another individual, mostly packages so unwieldy that we can no longer manage the loosened strings alone.

Life has puffed and blown itself into a summer day, and clouds and spring billow over the heavens as if calendars were a listing of mathematical errors.

Nothing annoys me more than having the most trivial action analyzed and explained.

Look closer and you’ll see something extraordinary, mystifying, something real and true. We have never been what we seemed.

And only weaklings who lack courage and the power to feel they’re right when the whole world says they’re wrong, ever lose.

A vacuum can only exist, I imagine, by the things which enclose it.

I wish I could write a beautiful book to break those hearts that are soon to cease to exist: a book of faith and small neat worlds and of people who live by the philosophies of popular songs.

I play the radio and moon about…and dream of Utopias where its always July the 24th 1935, in the middle of summer forever.

I have spent my life judging the distance between American reality and the American dream.

I have spent my life judging the distance between American reality and the American dream.

I have spent my life judging the distance between American reality and the American dream.

Morality has got nothing to do with the politicians. Simply, because the straight line is considered by them as the longest distance between the two points.

There’s a hell of a distance between wisecracking and wit. Wit has truth in it; wisecracking is simply calisthenics with words.

Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go, Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!

Oh, the brave Music of a distant drum!

Distance unites missing beats of two hearts in love.