Hypocrisy is the tribute that vice pays to virtue$$$ dear man. In an imperfect world$$$ I fear its the best we can manage.

He's going to save the world before he leaves it if it kills him.

His secretive nature detested the purpose of all interviews$$$ their oppressive intimacy$$$ their inescapable reality.

The thief left it behind: the moon at my window.

There was only now. There was no tomorrow because tomorrow was the excuse. There was now or there was nowhere.

Poems are rough notations for the music we are.

Tired of myself longing for what I have not.

I'd woken up early$$$ and I took a long time getting ready to exist.

With people you see in them what you already know.

The printing press is the greatest weapon in the armory of the modern commander.