I can't go on. I'll go on.

Let me go to hell, that's all I ask, and go on cursing them there, and them look down and hear me, that might take some of the shine off their bliss.

Where I am, I don't know, I'll never know, in the silence you don't know, you must go on, I can't go on, I'll go on.

We are all born mad. Some remain so.

There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet.

The old endless chain of love, tolerance, indifference, aversion and disgust