He contained, even at an early age, a stirring and the desire to stir.

Nothing can be truly replicated. Not a love, not a jewel, not a single line.

Vowels are the most illuminated letters in the alphabet. Vowels are the colors and souls of poetry and speech. (1976 Penthouse interview)

In the war of magic and religion, is magic ultimately the victor? Perhaps priest and magician were once one, but the priest, learning humility in the face of God, discarded the spell for prayer.

I have vague memories, like impressions on glass plates ...

It seemed as if the whole of the world was slowly being stripped of innocence. Or maybe I was seeing a little too clearly.

I hated the soup and felt little for the can.

Angel looks down at him and says, “Oh, pretty boy, Can't you show me nothing but surrender?

Within that moment was trust, compassion, and our mutual sense of irony. He was carrying death within him and I was carrying life. We were both aware of that, I know.

We learned we wanted too much. We could only give from the perspective of who we were and what we had. Apart, we were able to see with even greater clarity that we didn’t want to be without each other.

Never let go of that fiery sadness called desire.

But secretly I knew I had been transformed, moved by the revalation that human beings create art, that to be an artist was to see what others could not.

Paths that cross will cross again.

We never had any children," he said ruefully. "Our work was our children.

Got to lose control before you take control.

To be an artist is to enter into competition with god.

What is the soul? What color is it? I suspected my soul, being mischievous, might slip away while I was dreaming and fail to return. I did my best not to fall asleep, to keep it inside of me where it belonged.

I wish I could just project everything on the paper,

Those who have suffered understand suffering and therefore extend their hand.

Writing is not some quiet, closet act.

We were as Hansel and Gretel and we ventured out into the black forest of the world.

Finally, by the sea, where God is everywhere, I gradually calmed.

Later he would say that the Church led him to God, and LSD led him to universe. He also said that art led him to the devil, and sex kept him with the devil.

I understood that in this small space of time we had mutually surrendered our loneliness and replaced it with trust.