“my brain is many colors, vague,like massed flowers:total spectrum of petalsbeginning with black.I wear my costume insidelike blood and bones, keep graphs of my ups and downs,discover people laugh moreat my falls than at my flying.The moral of this story is:sad eyes need also tears.”

“Wayside school is falling down, falling down, falling down,Wayside school is falling down my fair lady.Kids go splat as they hit the ground, hit the ground, hit the ground,Kids go splat as the hit the ground my fair lady.Broken bones and blood and gore, blood and gore, blood and gore,Broken bones and blood and gore my fair lady.We don't have to go to school no more, school no more, school no more,We don't have to go to school no more my fair lady.”

“I threw back my head, my hair falling about me like a great red curtain, and cried out.  My eyes felt hot and burned with tears as my body trembled with the passion for blood. ”

“You’re in my bones and my blood and my heart,” he said. “I’d have to tear myself open to let you go.”

“My eyes change color depending on my mood and what I’m wearing. If I’m wearing an acorn brown shirt, my eyes look like squirrel fur. And if I’m wearing no shirt at all, my eyes look more nude and flesh-colored. I guess my ex girlfriend, Zelda, said it best when her friend asked her what I look like and she said: “He looks like you’d imagine him to look like, if you had no imagination.”

“The tears stream down my cheeks from my unblinking eyes. What makes me weep so? There is nothing saddening here. Perhaps it is liquefied brain.”