Lo, each subculture has its own language, and verily I am not a parody. You don’t believe me? Get with the program, crackpot!

As a man I’d been a cool customer. As a woman I was a hot tamale.

Sarcasm is the language of people whose emotions are dying.

But I feel vanity is a part of art and the non-vain are really non-artistic.

Although you can not hear my thoughts, Sam, I imagine I’m talking to you. Prayers to the brother who abandoned me. The day after you left Labrador, my honey started flowing. Is my body weeping...

Again Sam’s genitals became rock, and this astonished him as much as anything. Through Franz, he was becoming the stone Earth; the final border separating him from the planet was disappearing. And this transformation to...

I surrender to the Monster. What pleasure at last to give way to the strongest force in oneself.

Sam believes now that people repeatedly collide with each other swiftly, brutally – not to produce children but to shatter their sense of self, and be thrust into a creative space beyond reason, where anything...

In the evenings, Sam performs exercises to prepare his body for love-making with Franz. He practices kissing (something he’d once hated) by smooching deer lips, antelope ears, frog anuses, and the great, whiskered muzzles of...

Rocks are more co-operative than people.

I shall listen to my heart and it shall save me. I shall listen to my heart and I’ll be free.

In our lifetimes, we can only know a small portion of what exists. The world is endless and its treasures are inexhaustible.