Words Are Sexier Than Flesh.

I Don't Take Accusations Of Selling Out Lightly.

She's...just A Girl, You Know. Like Most Girls: Something And Nothing.

I Was Cured In My New Infamy Of All The Tired Wisdom Of Age. I Would Never Weary Into That Tired State Again - -i Swore To Myself, I Would Always Be This Raw, Wet Child Hereafter.

You Are My Beauty, My Body, Perfected. All I Was Drained Off Into You. When You Left, My Health Went With You - Leaving A Moral Morbidity I Smell In My Sleep. The Acts I Committed For The Love Of You. Acts I Can Never Forget. I Crawled Into The Bellies Of The Dead To Fish Out A Little Life... I Have An Appetite For It Now. I Have An Unrelenting Lust For Death.

Of Course It’s The Apparently Tranquil Periods That Deceive Us. Though Our Instruments Or Our Senses Or Our Wits May Not Be Able To See The Processes That Are Leading Toward These Clusters Of Events, They’re Happening. The Star, The Wheel, The Butterfly—all Are In A Subtle State Of Unrest, Waiting For The Moment When Some Invisible Mechanism Signals That The Time Has Come. Then The Star Explodes; The Wheel Makes Poor Men Rich; The Butterfly Mates And Dies.