"It's a battle of attrition that we're losing week by week, filled with hollow halls and unanswered calls and empty city streets. We're losing all our friends to distant postal codes. And this stack of letters on my desk is a poor substitute for flesh and bone." "I feel like a sabretooth tiger, slipping slowly into the tar and we hear the awful strains of boredom when we're playing the guitar. The weight of responsibility seems so heavy it could kill and if these fleas they don't suck me dry, I fear this city will."