Everyone is alone in the new America.

I’d rather be here, with you, for the worst that could happen, than anywhere else, for the best.

He’d finally reached a minimum level of accommodation to his perception of reality.

I’ve been very bitter, and there’ve been times when I’ve been on the brink of closing down and walking away, disappearing into the woods.—Merle Haggard

Don’t love your artists, it turns them into monsters.

My participation in events to which I’d thought myself central, I came to realize, went mostly unnoticed.

A feral hyena pack in a feeding frenzy, heads buried up to the neck in carcass of the New America.

He came roaring out of school and hit a 50 year wall of indifference. Life, baby.

Do gorillas throw shit in the wild?

After years of struggle, he finally broke through the glass floor.

Surrounded by chaos and devastation, he felt at ease. His inner and outer worlds had reached equilibrium

You turn out to be a minimalist. Minimal talent, minimal ambition, and minimal success.