Where are the gods<br>the gods hate us<br>the gods have run away<br>the gods have hidden in holes<br>the gods are dead of the plague<br>they rot and stink too<br>there never were any gods<br>there's only death.

He could not stand. It was not<br>That he could not thrive$$$ he was born<br>With everything but the will That can be deformed$$$ just like a limb.<br>Death was more interesting to him.<br>Life could not get his attention.

Freedom os a strong seed plantedIn a great need. I live here$$$ too. I want freedom just as you.

Yet the ivory gods$$$ and the ebony gods$$$and the gods of diamond-jade$$$ are only silly puppet gods that people themselves have made.

I asked you$$$ baby$$$ if you understood—you told me that you didn't$$$ but you thought you would.

To learn your artistry and to be able to perfect that$$$ is overwhelming. Especially when you are exuding love. The human emotion is a very delicate thing$$$ so you have to be careful about how you present it because it can be kind of scary$$$ or too overwhelming if you're not careful. So I try to just keep it love.

There are many differences between a baby and an I-Pod. And one of the biggest is$$$ no one's going to mug you for your baby.

The truth about life was that nothing ever ended until you died$$$ and even then you just left a whole bunch of unresolved narratives behind you.

In other words$$$ it's one of those books you thrust on your partner with an incredulous cry of "This is me!"

We spent all those years talking about stuff we had in common$$$ and the last few months noticing all the ways we were different and it broke both of our hearts.