There's Shames A Man Can Never Reason

The Raw Materials Of Reality Without The Glue Of Time Are Materials Adrift And Reality Is As Meaningless As The Balsa Parts Of A Model Airplane Scattered To The Wind.

What The Chronics Are - Or Most Of Us - Are Machines With Flaws Inside That Can't Be Repaired, Flaws Born In, Or Flaws Beat In Over So Many Years Of The Guy Running Head-on Into Solid Things That By The Time The Hospital Found Him He Was Bleeding Rust In Some Vacant Lot.

Mr. Bibbit, You Might Warn This Mr. Harding That I'm So Crazy I Admit To Voting For Eisenhower. Bibbit! You Tell Mr. Mcmurphy I'm So Crazy I Voted For Eisenhower Twice! And You Tell Mr. Harding Right Back — He Puts Both Hands On The Table And Leans Down, His Voice Getting Low — That I'm So Crazy I Plan To Vote For Eisenhower Again This November.

Tricker The Squirrel Is The Best Piece I Ever Wrote. It's Intricate.

I've Been To Too Many Dead Concerts. There've Been Smokin' Holes Where My Memory Used To Be.