[...]the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!

My father and my mother and my sister and I have always voted Republican, always.

I made myself famous by writing 'songs' and lyrics about the beauty of the things I did and ugliness, too.

Whither goest thou, America, in thy shiny car in the night?

Offer them what they secretly want and they of course immediately become panic-stricken.