To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream.
What did my hands do before they held you?
Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.
I talk to God, but the sky is empty.
I wanted change and excitement and to shoot off in all directions myself, like the colored arrows from a Fourth of July rocket.
There must be quite a few things a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them.
...Why the hell are we conditioned into the smooth strawberry-and-cream mother-goose, Alice-and- Wonderland fable, only to be broken on the wheel as we grow older and become aware of ourselves as individuals with a dull responsibility in life?
I fixed my eyes on the larget cloud, as if, when it passed out of my sight, I might have the good luck to pass with it.
Everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it and the imagination to improvise.