Of all the conditions we experience, solitude is perhaps the most misunderstood.

People went through life like well handled jugs, collecting chips and scrapes and stains from wear and tear, from holding and pouring life.

You’ve been wondering lately when the moment is that somebody is truly lost to you.

Those partial to drink were hiding faults and dishonesty. They were sloppy souls, even the ones with pleasant manners and fine noses.

I don't like novels that tie everything up in a plot-y way. I always think that's not really true of life, particularly of people in power.

I'll tell you this, lad: A tattoo says more of a fellow looking at it than it can do of the man who's got it on his back.

The man had added to his body in a way that was brave and timeless and beyond adornment.

You didn’t understand what he was saying, until he kissed you. It was a kiss of such complicity, of such uncomplicated sympathy, that you felt for the first time not alone in your suffering.

All innocent mechanisms are muddied up with experience. Children become less and less translucent. Layers of guile and suspicion grow. It's the law of paternal disenchantments.

This is your first and final chance, your one and only biography.

A month in and it seemed to CY that he was an explorer summiting the foothill of an a bizarre and primitive island.

Living through difficult life circumstances in not an excuse for passing trauma onto someone else.

Quit waiting for others to give to you

One must know combinations, one must have a true knowledge of food to be in the moment.

The bottom line is that the human body is complex and subtle, and oversimplifying - as common sense sometimes impels us to do - can be hazardous to your health.

I know that we will be the sufferers if we let great wrongs occur without exerting ourselves to correct them.

The important part of the present development is the anti-capitalist sentiment that is permeating our people.

Throughout history the world has been laid waste to ensure the triumph of conceptions that are now as dead as the men that died for them.

A thick hide is a gift from God.

You don't waste your entire life waiting to go back to dust.

While I was in Montrose, the publishing checks went into the band's coffers. This was our management's decision; we were just financing ourselves on the road.