Rocks Are Space, And Space Is Illusion.

A Fine Thing To Be Talking About Angels In This Day When Common Thieves Smash The Holy Rosaries Of Their Victims In The Street.

You Can't Teach The Old Maestro A New Tune.

I'm Catholic And I Can't Commit Suicide, But I Plan To Drink Myself To Death.

Practice Kindness All Day To Everybody And You Will Realize You're Already In Heaven Now.

And This Is The Way A Novel Gets Written, In Ignorance, Fear, Sorrow, Madness, And A Kind Of Psychotic Happiness As An Incubator For The Wonders Being Born.