Death Is The Mother Of Beauty.

Its Always Been My Tendency To Lie To Doctors, As If Good Health Consisted Only Of The Ability To Fool Them.

I'll Never Forget You. Your Husband Will Beat You With An Extension Cord And The Bus Will Pull Away Leaving You Standing There In Tears, But You Were My Mother.

What's Funny About Jesus' Son Is That I Never Even Wrote That Book, I Just Wrote It Down. I Would Tell These Stories And People Would Say, You Should Write These Things Down.

Through This Feeling Of Helplessness Suddenly Burst A Piercing Nostalgia For The Lost World Of Childhood. The Way It Came Right Up Against The Heart, That World, And Against The Face. No Indoors Or Outdoors, Only Everything Touching Us, And The Grown-ups Lumbering Past Overhead Like Constellations.

Talk Into My Bullet Hole. Tell Me I'm Fine.