This World… Belongs To The Strong, My

Then - As He Was Talking - A Set Of Tail-lights Going Past Lit Up Mcmurphy's Face, And The Windshield Reflected An Expression That Was Allowed Only Because He Figured It'd Be Too Dark For Anybody In The Car To See, Dreadfully Tired And Strained And Frantic, Like There Wasn't Enough Time Left For Something He Had To Do.

The Dead's Dead ... Get 'em In The Ground And Look To The Live Ones.

The '60s Aren't Over; They Won't Be Over Until The Fat Lady Gets High.

Don't Say It...i've Seen Too Many Loves Sundered By Too Much Needless Honesty.

Memory Whispers Someplace In That Jumbled Machinery.