We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

The role of the artist is to ask questions, not to give answers.

I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice. Still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend.

写作是抵抗世界沉默的方式。