This birth thing. And this death thing. Each one had it's turn. We entered alone and we left alone. And most of us lived lonely and frightened and incomplete lives. An incomparable sadness descended up on me. Seeing all that life that must die. Seeing all that life that would first turn to hate, to dementia, to neuroses, to stupidity, to fear, to murder, to nothing - nothing in life and nothing in death.
To do a dull thing with style – now that’s what I call art.
The poem has some value, believe me. It keeps you from going totally mad.
The cat is the beautiful devil.
People don’t need love. What they need is success in one form or another. It can be love but it needn’t be.
Justice is everywhere and it’s working.
Love it or leave it.
The whole world is caught in her glance and at last the universe is magnificent.
People lack originality.
She’s mad, but she’s magic. There’s no lie in her fire.
Let’ em learn or let’ em die.
Dogs and angels are not very far apart.
Goodness can be found sometimes in the middle of hell.
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