If I had infinite money, I’d never show my art to anybody ever again.

I’d finally write that comic book. I’d never show it to anybody either.

I’d still live in my little hometown. Beautiful, polluted, falling apart. I can see the truth here and I can see it clearly.

If I had infinite money, I’d buy the quiet, I’d buy the time to think as long as I need to. I’d say the words and let them disappear. I wouldn’t t care whether anybody would ever hear them or not.