The match I struck shall not run deadYou’re my first inhale, my last cigarette.

It’s just another stop on the curvy roadthe final encounterfor the man who has liveddeath is the answer.

Do not judge a woman on her knees_you never know how tall she is when she stands!

I ain’t scared to lend a handI ain’t scared to clench it either

All mothers breed dead children.They shall, perhaps, live later.When no longer dead, they are bornNot—by coincidence, by choice.

Women in love are patheticand I cannot be bothered, for now, I am back to metaphysicsand my armpits gather hair.

I have not encouraged talk about man’s holy privacy, although I do respect and defend man’s right to have it.

We quenched the bulging flame, amongst the ashes embers of fire remain

Lonely you linger in a league above poetry.

No man has the courage to approach her or initiate questions she herself rise, for all men fear a fascist and she can very well be a fascist’s wife.

What differentiated us was our perception of our mutual reality, which made no difference.

The world is dark, and light is precious.Come closer, dear reader.You must trust me.I am telling you a story.

When you become a parent, or a teacher, you turn into a manager of this whole system. You become the person controlling the bubble of innocence around a child, regulating it.

The hours spool out like a ribbon I can't find the end of.

Anyone who said power was not addictive had never really experienced it.

Whoever gives advice to a sick person acquires a feeling of superiority over him, whether the advice be accepted or rejected.

It was a struggle treating Claude Rains as my lover, but we were friendly. It was no great love affair.

To a man of pleasure every moment appears to be lost, which partakes not of the vivacity of amusement.

Scale will get you strategy.

And right this second I want to live in ignorant bliss.

Those thoughts are truth which guide us to beneficial interaction with sensible particulars as they occur, whether they copy these in advance or not.