Everybody Looks A Little Crazy If You're

Everything Is A Self-portrait. A Diary. Your Whole Drug History’s In A Strand Of Your Hair. Your Fingernails. The Forensic Details. The Lining Of Your Stomach Is A Document. The Calluses On Your Hand Tell All Your Secrets. Your Teeth Give You Away. Your Accent. The Wrinkles Around Your Mouth And Eyes. Everything You Do Shows Your Hand.

Life's Greatest Comfort Is Being Able To Look Over Your Shoulder And See People Worse Off, Waiting In Line Behind You.

In Light This Bright, After So Long In The Dark, Everything We Can See Is Only Black And White. Only Glaring Shape-outlines We Have To Blink Against.

I Will Never Write A Sequel To Anything That I Will Ever Write.

Only Through Destroying Myself Can I Discover The Greater Power Of My Spirit.