The Moon Hung Over The Planet Earth,

If You Forget Everything Else About Me, Please Remember This. I Walked Down That Street And I Never Looked Back And I Love You. I Love You. I Love You So Much That I Shall Hate You For Ever For Today.

I Think We Are Just Insects, We Live A Bit And Then Die And That’s The Lot. There’s No Mercy In Things. There’s Not Even A Great Beyond. There’s Nothing.

The American Myth Is Of Free Will In Its Simple, Primary Sense. One Can Choose Oneself And Will Oneself; And This Absurdly Optimistic Assumption So Dominates The Republic That It Has Bred All Its Gross Social Injustices.

Between Skin And Skin, There Is Only Light.

But However Good You Get At Translating Personality Into Line Or Paint It's No Go If Your Personality Isn't Worth Translating.