“Much did I rage when young,
Being by the world oppressed,
But now with flattering tongue
It speeds the parting guest.”

“Choking with dry tears and raging, raging, raging at the absolute indifference of nature and the world to the death of love, the death of hope and the death of beauty, I remember sitting on the end of my bed, collecting these pills and capsules together and wondering why, why when I felt I had so much to offer, so much love, such outpourings of love and energy to spend on the world, I was incapable of being offered love, giving it or summoning the energy with which I knew I could transform myself and everything around me.”

“It's music rage, which is like road rage, only more righteous. When you get road rage, a tiny part of you knows you're being a jerk, but when you get music rage, you're carrying out the will of God, and God wants these people dead”

“Alike he thwarts the hospitable end,
Who drives the free, or stays the hasty friend:
True friendship's laws are by this rule expressed,
Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest.”

“But when you are older, nothing you did when you were young matters at all. I know that now, though I didn't know it then. We were simply young.”

“I didn't mind getting old when I was young. It's the being old now that's getting to me.”

“To the guests that must go, bid God's speed and brush away all traces of their steps.”

“And when I was young, did I ever tell you, I always wanted to get inside
a book and never come out again? I loved reading so much I wanted
to be a part of it, and there were some books I could have stayed in
for ever.”

“So young when the pain had begun
Now forever afraid of being loved.”

“The world's an Inn; and I her guest.”