Write Hard And Clear About What Hurts.

I’m Not Brave Any More Darling. I’m All Broken. They’ve Broken Me.

Religion Is The Opium Of The Poor.

And How Much Better To Die In All The Happy Period Of Undisillusioned Youth, To Go Out In A Blaze Of Light, Than To Have Your Body Worn Out And Old And Illusions Shattered.

I Believe That Basically You Write For Two People; Yourself To Try To Make It Absolutely Perfect; Or If Not That Then Wonderful. Then You Write For Who You Love Whether She Can Read Or Write Or Not And Whether She Is Alive Or Dead.

Life Is Pain, So Live It Up While You Can.