Out Of The Ash I Rise With

I Am Gone Quite Mad With The Knowledge Of Accepting The Overwhelming Number Of Things I Can Never Know, Places I Can Never Go, And People I Can Never Be.

Pretty Soon, The Only Doubt In My Mind Was The Precise Time And Method Of Committing Suicide. The Only Alternative I Could See Was An Eternity Of Hell For The Rest Of My Life In A Mental Hospital, And I Was Going To Use My Last Ounce Of Free Choice And Choose A Quick Clean Ending.

Dying Is An Art, Like Everything Else. I Do It Exceptionally Well.

What I Fear Most, I Think, Is The Death Of The Imagination.

Not Being Perfect Hurts.