and you know that everything i've ever written is a lie

 

everyone's a minor god, a junkie, a failed prophet

 

like sucking marrow from the bones of the past; like that

 

despair as the drug of motherfuckers

 

truth is never truth until it actually happens

 

can you be a man who builds bombs and also be a man who believes in god?

WORDS, SURROUNDED BY WORDS

 

message to the good thief, who died for no one’s sins

 

An interesting assessment from the publisher.

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