"Frankly, I was horrified by life, at what a man had to do simply in order to eat, sleep, and keep himself clothed. So I stayed in bed and drank. When you drank the world was still out there, but for the moment it didn't have you by the throat."
"The myth of the starving artist was a hoax. Once you realized that everything was a hoax you got wise and began to bleed and burn your fellow man. I'd build an empire upon the broken bodies and lives of helpless men, women, and children - I'd shove it to them all the way. I'd show them!"
Love is all right for those who can handle the psychic overload. It's like trying to carry a full garbage can on your back over a rushing river of pins. -C. Bukowski