I Want To Still Be Me When

In My Garden, After A Rainfall, You Can Faintly, Yes, Hear The Breaking Of New Blooms.

It's Like A Jumble Of Huts In A Jungle Somewhere. I Don't Understand How You Can Live There. It's Really, Completely Dead. Walk Along The Street, There's Nothing Moving. I've Lived In Small Spanish Fishing Villages Which Were Literally Sunny All Day Long Everyday Of The Week, But They Weren't As Boring As Los Angeles.

There Is Nobody In The World That You Can't Get If You Really Concentrate On It, If You Really Want Them. You've Got To Want It To The Exclusion Of Everything Else.

Our Real Fears Are The Sounds Of Footsteps Walking In The Corridors Of Our Minds, And The Anxieties, The Phantom Floatings, They Create.

It Was The Most Haunting Room I've Ever Seen. Because You Know What's In It? All The Left­overs, All The Paraphernalia That The Different Condemned Men Had Had With Them In The "holding" Cells.