-- "i miss streetlights. they made seeing stars a humanly-craved challenge for me, while industrially serving as light, a form of beauty, in darkness, despair.

we're simply blind to the amount of beauty in night's light, and reprise the artificial sight as a symbol, or maybe an image, of lack of gratitude and passion.

we have created pale reason. in a sense, television skies.

i like the breathing undertone of my whispers in my mind and, like what i just said to you, exposed from it spontaniously, results and emerges as accidental art."

-- "all art is what you would call accidental. that's what makes it precious; it's unlike everything and everyone else that's so seemingly purposeful in this life. artists are humans who aren't ashamed."

-- "it's a rare and confounding moment and throws me into an interesting state of being.

i like how my book nods in reaction to the life-assuring pump of my pulsating heart, in almost organized irregularity, reaching from my naked chest in attention's anguish."