Her Eyes Always Had A Frantic, Lost

I Went To The Bathroom And Threw Some Water On My Face, Combed My Hair. If I Could Only Comb That Face, I Thought, But I Can't.

Writers Are Nothing But Beggars With A Good Line.

The Free Soul Is Rare, But You Know It When You See It - Basically Because You Feel Good, Very Good, When You Are Near Or With Them.

It Was A Joy! Words Weren't Dull, Words Were Things That Could Make Your Mind Hum. If You Read Them And Let Yourself Feel The Magic, You Could Live Without Pain, With Hope, No Matter What Happened To You.

I Would Certainly End Up Forever Crying The Blues Into A Coffee Cup In A Park For Old Men Playing Chess Or Silly Games Of Some Sort.