To be or not to be. That's not really a question.

Burroughs ... his very junkhood an accomplishment beyond a million dollars.

Hope$$$ the best comfort of our imperfect condition.

We are the ink that gives the white page a meaning.

Sarcasm is bitter and conceals ferments of despair.

Art requires philosophy$$$ just as philosophy requires art. Otherwise$$$ what would become of beauty?

There is nothing like wounded affection for giving poignancy to anger.

I know you despise me; allow me to say$$$ it is because you don't understand me.

But the future must be met$$$ however stern and iron it be.

True beauty lies in purity of the heart.