There was a certain freedom in being on the outside. He watched instead of being watched.

The cat of the slums and alleys, starved, outcast, harried,... still displays the self- reliant watchfulness which man has never taught it to lay aside.

And alien tears will fill for him Pity's long-broken urn, For his mourners will be outcast men, And outcasts always mourn.

I know how men in exile feed on dreams.

Did all outcasts come to this realization at a certain point in life? That being outcast from a bogus and pornographic society actually was a good thing? I hoped so. I hoped there was an army of us out there, smiling about it that very moment.

Newton's laws of physics can rarely be applied to the real world. There is more to life than cause and effect. Things just aren't that simple