In The Taxi I Let My Hand

One Can't Love Humanity. One Can Only Love People.

Oh, I’m Not A Berkeleian. I Believe My Back’s Against This Wall. I Believe There’s A Sten Gun Over There.

In The Taxi I Let My Hand Lie On Her Leg Like A Promise, But I Had No Intention Of Keeping My Promise.

I Write About Situations That Are Common, Universal Might Be More Correct, In Which My Characters Are Involved And From Which Only Faith Can Redeem Them, Though Often The Actual Manner Of The Redemption Is Not Immediately Clear. They Sin, But There Is No Limit To God's Mercy And Because This Is Important, There Is A Difference Between Not Confessing In Fact, And The Complacent And The Pious May Not Realize It.

I Hate You, God. I Hate You As Though You Actually Exist.