There is an alternative to war. It's staying in bed and growing your hair.

They'd retreated to the country with two passports only. From the outside it looked like death. People could pound the walls all they wanted, but they'd never find the door. Nobody could guess at the gardens inside.

Wenner’s unabashed idol worship had so often embarrassed them—starfucker, they grumbled behind his back—but now here he was with an actual Beatle. And Yoko! Who could deny this? The hirsute supercouple were smaller than anybody imagined, but John Lennon still towered over Jann Wenner, who at five six so often found himself gazing up at his heroes like a boy vampire.

You know the way people begin to look like their dogs? Well, we're beginning to look like each other.

The sun is up, the sky is blue
It's beautiful, and so are you

Sitting on a cornflake, waiting for the van to come.