Living So Fully, I Can't Imagine What

Action Is The Antidote To Despair.

We're Not Really Pacifists, We're Nonviolent Soldiers.

Put Tattoos All Up And Down Our Thighs, Do Anything Our Parents Would Despise. Take Uppers, Downers, Blues, And Reds And Yellows, Our Brains Are Turning Into Jello.

You May Not Know It, But At The Far End Of Despair, There Is A White Clearing Where One Is Almost Happy.

Somebody Else Does The Rigor And Then I Listen. I Have An Assistant, And My Manager, And Other People Who Hunt And Find And Send It To Me, And Then I Just Figure Out Which Ones I Can Do Justice To.