“I will Basquiat the canvas of your body like a Broadway Junction wall…and Gordon Parks you for those dark midnights when your scent fades.”

“I follow the scent of fading life like hounds rushing toward bodies in shallow graves.”

“...have I told you? - your eyes are a dark poem of dancing snow at midnight ...”

“Like I said before, your body is not a temple, it's an amusement park. Enjoy the ride.”

“Imagine your life is a big canvas. Picture it in your mind and think about the beginnning of your painting of life.You're fourteen yours old, and you are lucky if you have one seventh painted. Now imagine the rest of the canvas is totaly empty. Every day you live, and every month and every year, means another inch that is painted on that canvas. You're going to be painting this empty canvas with your life and when you get to the end of it, what is that painting going to look like?”

“Don't go back to teaching - it sucks the marrow from your sould andyour wisdom fades into the brick brains of those who can not learnwhat they do not know. Teaching is a wall falling into a vermilionsea. What I like most about you is your yellow flaring laugh and itlashing joyfully against the wind of your anguish.”