Wisdom Was A Teapot, Pouring From Above.

I Hated The Soup And Felt Little For The Can.

Hey Sister, You're Just Moving Too Fast, You're Screwing Up The Quota.

I Was So Used To Doing Art That My Fingers Were Like Albino Spiders. So It Was Just Natural For Me To Go To A Typewriter And Write Poetry.

Where Does It All Lead? What Will Become Of Us? These Were Our Young Questions, And Young Answers Were Revealed. It Leads To Each Other. We Become Ourselves.

Freedom Is...the Right To Write The Wrong Words.