Some People Think That Words Can Injure

When I Was In Seventh Grade, I Was Caught Stealing Money From The Visiting Team's Locker Room During A Basketball Game. So I Was Sent To The Brothers. That's What They Called This Parochial School Up In Goshen, New York. I Was Supposed To Get Closer Supervision There And More "masculine Influence," Whatever That Means. But I Was Thrown Out For Telling A Couple Of Really Lame Kids On The Playground That I Had Heroin.

I Don't Really Identify With America, I Don't Really Feel Like An American Or Part Of The American Experience, And I Don't Really Feel Like A Member Of The Human Race, To Tell You The Truth. I Know I Am, But I Really Don't. All The Definitions Are There, But I Don't Really Feel A Part Of It. I Think I Have Found A Detached Point Of View, An Ideal Emotional Detachment From The American Experience And Culture And The Human Experience And Culture And Human Choices.

I'm Certainly A Skeptic. I Always Quibble With People.

If You're Reading It In A Book, Folks, It Ain't Self-help. It's Help.

Spirituality: The Last Refuge Of A Failed Human. Just Another Way Of Distracting Yourself From Who You Really Are.