If You Think They Didn't

There's Nothing Unusual About Love.

I Guess We Often Get The Deep Blues, Both Of Us, And Wonder What It All Means- The People, The Buildings, The Day By Day Things, The Waste Of Time, Of Ourselves.

If I Stop Writing I Am Dead. And That's The Only Way I'll Stop: Dead.

The Writer Has No Responsibility Other Than To Jack Off In Bed Alone And Write A Good Page.

I Was Only Photographing In Words The Reality Of It All.