I Had No Freedom. I Had Nothing.

Dying Should Come Easy: Like A Freight Train You Don't Hear When Your Back Is Turned.

Oh, I Don’t Mean You’re Handsome, Not The Way People Think Of Handsome. Your Face Seems Kind. But Your Eyes - They’re Beautiful. They’re Wild, Crazy, Like Some Animal Peering Out Of A Forest On Fire.

I Had No Freedom. I Had Nothing.

Joan Of Arc Had Style. Jesus Had Style.

What A Weary Time Those Years Were -- To Have The Desire And The Need To Live But Not The Ability.