It Seems I Make A Lot Of

This Is A World Where Everybody’s Gotta Do Something. Ya Know, Somebody Laid Down This Rule That Everybody’s Gotta Do Something, They Gotta Be Something. You Know, A Dentist, A Glider Pilot, A Narc, A Janitor, A Preacher, All That . . . Sometimes I Just Get Tired Of Thinking Of All The Things That I Don’t Wanna Do. All The Things That I Don’t Wanna Be. Places I Don’t Wanna Go, Like India, Like Getting My Teeth Cleaned. Save The Whale, All That, I Don’t Understand That . . .

Beauty Is Nothing, Beauty Won’t Stay. You Don’t Know How Lucky You Are To Be Ugly, Because If People Like You, You Know It’s For Something Else.

I Like To Change Liquor Stores Frequently Because The Clerks Got To Know Your Habits If You Went In Night And Day And Bought Huge Quantities. I Could Feel Them Wondering Why I Wasn't Dead Yet And It Made Me Uncomfortable. They Probably Weren't Thinking Any Such Thing, But Then A Man Gets Paranoid When He Has 300 Hangovers A Year.

Those Who Escape Hell However Never Talk About It And Nothing Much Bothers Them After That

Nobody Can Save You But Yourself. You Will Be Put Again And Again Into Nearly Impossible Situations. They Will Attempt Again And Again Through Subterfuge, Guise And Force To Make You Submit, Quit And/or Die Quietly Inside. Nobody Can Save You But Yourself