We, Her Children, Are Heroic, Dersperate.

Perhaps Someone Will Have Seen Mine, The One I’m Waiting For, Just As I Saw Him, In A Ditch When His Hands Were Making Their Last Appeal And His Eyes No Longer Could See. Someone Who Will Never Know What That Man Was To Me; Someone Whose Name I’ll Never Know.

Drinking Isn't Necessarily The Same As Wanting To Die. But You Can't Drink Without Thinking You're Killing Yourself.

I'm Still There, Watching Those Possessed Children, As Far Away From The Mystery Now As I Was Then. I've Never Written, Though I Thought I Wrote, Never Loved, Though I Thought I Loved, Never Done Anything But Wait Outside The Closed Door.

No Other Human Being, No Woman, No Poem Or Music, Book Or Painting Can Replace Alcohol In Its Power To Give Man The Illusion Of Real Creation.

You Are What You Are And That Fascinates Me.