some moments are nice, some arenicer, some are even worthwritingabout.

Finally there is nothing here for death to take away.

when I am feelinglowall i have to do iswatch my catsand mycouragereturns

It’s all overrated, man. Sex is only a great thing if you’re not getting any.

I’d decided the campus was just a place to hide. There were some campus freaks who stayed on forever. The whole college scene was soft. They never told you what to expect out there in...

I’ve never been lonely. I’ve been in a room — I’ve felt suicidal. I’ve been depressed. I’ve felt awful — awful beyond all — but I never felt that one other person could enter that...

sometimes all we need to be able to continue aloneare the deadrattling the wallsthat close us in.

I do think that poetry is important though, if you don’t strive at it, if you don’t fill it full of stars and falseness.

from the beginning, through themiddle years and up to theend:too bad, too bad, too bad.

Belane, are you nuts?”Who knows? Insanity is comparative. Who sets the norm?

Life’s as kind as you let it be.

sometimes when everything seems atits worstwhen all conspiresand gnawsand the hours, days, weeksyearsseem wasted – stretched there upon my bedin the darklooking upward at the ceilingi get what many will consider anobnoxious thought:it’s still nice...

it does seemthe more we drinkthe better the wordsgo.

the world is better withoutthem.only the plants and the animals aretrue comrades.I drink to them and withthem.

Sento ancora la follia scorrermi dentro, ma ancora non ho scritto le parole che avrei voluto, la tigre mi è rimasta sulla schiena. Morirò con addosso quella figlia di puttana, ma almeno le ho dato...

She had wild eyes, slightly insane. She also carried an overload of compassion that was real enough and which obviously cost her something.

Something else is hurting you – that’s why you need pot or whiskey, or whips and rubber suits, or screaming music turned so fucking loud you can’t think.

The Artist,” an ancient sage had once said, “is always sitting on the doorsteps of the rich.

my beerdrunk soul is sadder than all the dead christmas trees of the world.

But then if you lied to a man about his talent just because he was sitting across from you, that was the most unforgivable lie of them all, because that was telling him to go...

You gotta find what you like and let it kill you.

There’s no way I can stop writing, it’s a form of insanity.

True beauty” comes, of course, of character. Not through how the eyebrows are shaped. So many women that I’m told are beautiful… hell, it’s like looking into a soup bowl.

I feel no grief for being called somethingwhichI am not;in fact, it’s enthralling, somehow, like a goodback rub

it’s good to have things done withwhen they don’t workit’s also good not to hateor even forgetthe person you’ve failed with.

I sing the body electric”I know what hemeantI know what hewanted:to be completely alive every momentin spite of the inevitable.we can’t cheat death but we can make itwork so hardthat when it does takeusit will...

I was drawn to all the wrong things: I liked to drink, I was lazy, I didn’t have a god, politics, ideas, ideals. I was settled into nothingness; a kind of non-being, and I accepted...

That’s the problem with drinking, I thought, as I poured myself a drink. If something bad happens you drink in an attempt to forget; if something good happens you drink in order to celebrate; and...

DEATH COMES SLOWLY LIKE ANTS TO A FALLEN FIG

There is always somebody about to ruin your day, if not your life.

my mother, poor fish,wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times aweek, telling me to be happy: “Henry, smile!why don’t you ever smile?”and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was...

girlsplease give yourbodies and yourlivestothe young menwhodeserve thembesidesthere isno wayI would welcometheintolerabledullsenseless hellyou would bringmeandI wish youluckin bedandoutbut notinminethankyou.

If I bet on humanity, I’d never cash a ticket.

fuckshe pulled her dress offover her headand I saw the pantiesindented somewhat into thecrotch.it’s only human.now we’ve got to do it.I’ve got to do itafter all that bluff.it’s like a party–two trappedidiots.under the sheetsafter I...

darkness falls upon Humanityand faces become terriblethingsthat wanted more than therewas.all our days are marked withunexpectedaffronts – somedisastrous, othersless sobut the process iswearing andcontinuous.attrition rules.most givewayleavingempty spaceswhere people shouldbe.and nowas we ready to self-destructthere is...

being alone never felt right. sometimes it felt good, but it never felt right.

wesat theresmokingcigarettesat5in the morning.

Oh, it’s terrible what these young people do to themselves, in my lsi other drugs, is a terrible thing”.Then you look, the woman who speaks in this way: you have no eyes, no teeth, no...

I was fairly poorbut most of my money wentfor wine andclassical music.I loved to mix the twotogether.

Drinking is an emotional thing. It joggles you out of the standardism of everyday life, out of everything being the same. It yanks you out of your body and your mind and throws you against...

Style is the answer to everything.A fresh way to approach a dull or dangerous thingTo do a dull thing with style is preferable to doing a dangerous thing without itTo do a dangerous thing with...

great writers are indecent peoplethey live unfairlysaving the best part for paper.good human beings save the worldso that bastards like me can keep creating art,become immortal.if you read this after I am deadit means I...

I didn’t know who tobelievebutone thing I doknow: when a man islivingmany claim relationshipsthat are hardlysoand after he dies, well,then it’s everybody’sparty.

To experience real agony is something hard to write about, impossible to understand while it grips you; you’re frightened out of your wits, can’t sit still, move, or even go decently insane.

I guess I´m too used to sitting in a small room and making words do a few things. I see enough of humanity at the racetracks, the supermarkets, gas stations, freeways, cafes, etc. This can´t...

my 6 foot goddessmakes me laughthe laughter of the mutilatedwho still needlove…she has saved mefrom everything that isnot here

animals never worry about Heaven or Hell. neither do I. maybe that’s why we get along

Never bring a lot of money to where a poor man lives. He can only lose what little he has. On the other hand it is mathematically possible that he might win whatever you bring...

How are his poems?””He’s not as good as he thinks he is, but then most of us feel that way.

peace of mind and heartarriveswhen we accept what is:having beenborn into thisstrange lifewe must acceptthe wasted gamble of ourdaysand take some satisfaction inthe pleasure ofleaving it allbehind.