Crooked Cards And Straight Whiskey, Slow Horses

Against The Ruin Of The World, There Is Only One Defense: The Creative Act.

With My Own Group I Like To Keep It Loose. They Have To Counter Rather Than Go With Me. When They Stop I Like To Be Moving.

You Don't Become A Saint Until You Lead A Good Life Whether In Tibet Or Italy Or America.

Any Talented Decadent Can Make Unreality Believable. To Make Reality Convincing Is Another Matter, A Matter For Only The Greatest Masters.

Lost In Loneliness And Pain. Black And Unendurable, Thinking Of You With Every Corpuscle Of My Flesh, In Every Instant Of Night And Day.