I Don't Have Any Spiritual Strategy.

It’s A Pity If Someone… Has To Console Himself For The Wreck Of His Days With The Notion That Somehow His Voice, His Work Embodies The Deepest, Most Obscure, Freshest, Rawest Oyster Of Reality In The Unfathomable Refrigerator Of The Heart’s Ocean, But I Am Such A One, And There You Have It.

I Speak Of A Clinical Depression That Is The Background Of Your Entire Life, A Background Of Anguish And Anxiety, A Sense That Nothing Goes Well, That Pleasure Is Unavailable And All Your Strategies Collapse.

I've Never Thought Of Myself As A Singer Anyway. . . I've Been Free From Those Considerations Because So Many People Over The Years Told Me I Don't Have A Voice. I Kind Of Bought That. I Never Thought That Much About It To Begin With. I Knew I Didn't Have One Of The Great Voices. As My Damon Runyanesque Lawyer Used To Say, "none Of You Guys Can Sing. If I Want To Hear Singing, I'll Go To The Metropolitan Opera."

Even Damnation Is Poisoned With Rainbows.

Creators Care Nothing For Their Systems Except That They Be Unique.