So The Days, The Last Days, Blow

Aprils Have Never Meant Much To Me, Autumns Seem That Season Of Beginning, Spring.

Of Course People Couldn't Help But Think I Must Be A Bit Of A Dyke Myself. And Of Course I Am. Everyone Is: A Bit. So What? That Never Discouraged A Man Yet, In Fact It Seems To Goad Them On.

You Can't Blame A Writer For What The Characters Say.

No One Will Ever Know What 'in Cold Blood' Took Out Of Me. It Scraped Me Right Down To The Marrow Of My Bones. It Nearly Killed Me. I Think, In A Way, It Did Kill Me.

Mick Jagger Is About As Sexy As A Pissing Toad.