In my opinion,” Red said, “going to Florida for the winter is kind of like … not paying your dues. Not standing fast for the hard part.

Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn’t stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren’t having any of those.

Suggestions are not ultimatums. Your voyage rests on individualism.

Flow my tears, fall from your springs! Exiled forever let me mourn; Where night's black bird her sad infamy sings, There let me live forlorn.

Written By Philip K. Dick

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