We sit here stranded, though we're all doin' our best to deny it

We’re all stuck here for a while, so let’s try to work it out.

We're all mad, the whole damned race. We're wrapped in illusions, delusions, confusions about the penetrability of partitions, we're all mad and in solitary confinement.

Yes, we're still struggling to have a place here, though, ironically, we have a place. It's the fearful ones who try and keep us out who are still looking for a place. (2008)

We’ve encountered various obstacles, but we are still here.

We're all a little lost and that's alright.

We are really stuck with ourselves, and our attempts to reject or to accept are equally fruitless, for they fail to reach that inaccessible center of our selfhood which is trying to do the accepting or the rejecting.

I suspect the truth is that we are waiting, all of us, against insurmountable odds, for something extraordinary to happen to us.

We're all in this alone.

[W]e're all trapped in a sort of conspiracy to pretend everybody's forgiven everybody else and nobody minds anything any more and we all know life's not like that but what can we do?

We're all not quite as sane as we pretend to be.

Our situation on this earth seems strange. Every one of us appears here involuntarily and uninvited for a short stay, without knowing the whys and the wherefore.

and it is here that we are, in some pain and with no guarantees, working out our destiny.

You know what I think? I think that . . . we're all stuck in our private traps — clamped in them — and none of us can ever get out. We scratch and claw, but only at the air, only at each other, and for all of it, we never budge an inch.