Manuskripti.

Manos pirkstu galos dzīvo laime.
Kad pieliecos pie spoguļa mēģinājumu starplaikos, tad savās acīs lasu mieru.
Jogas cienīgā pozā akrobātikā man sejā iespīd saule un es neredzu neko citu kā vien saules gaismu.

"I'm like cat here, a no-name slob. We belong to nobody, and nobody belongs to us. We don't even belong to each other. "

You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You're chicken, you've got no guts. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, "Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness." You call yourself a free spirit, a "wild thing," and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.