They Build Their Own Hells.

Something Good Will Come Out Of All Things Yet — And It Will Be Golden And Eternal Just Like That.

I Feel Guilty For Being A Member Of The Human Race.

At Night In This Part Of The West The Stars, As I Had Seen Them In Wyoming, Were As Big As Roman Candles And As Lonely As The Prince Who's Lost His Ancestral Home And Journeys Across The Spaces Trying To Find It Again, And Knows He Never Will.

Bein Crazy Is The Least Of My Worries.

I Think It's All Lovely Hallucination But I Love It Sorta.