A Quote by Tom Verlaine

Well, I worked in a sheet metal factory once and scarred my wrist from the cuts. I found a sympathetic psychiatrist who told the draft board I was insane. We used the scars as proof of a suicide attempt.
I was making guitars and I was a sheet metal worker and if you ever see sheet metal workers' hands, you've never seen so many cuts in your life.
Last week I told my psychiatrist, 'I keep thinking about suicide', and he told me from now I have to pay in advance.
Is he all scarred now? Magic gets rid of most physical scars, but I like to think I scarred him emotionally.
My mother worked in a cookie factory. My father worked in a factory. So anyone that dares begrudge what I have, just better get off their duff and do something about it to do something for themselves as well as their country. I feel that I have a perfect right to spend my money the way I damn please.
Eventually I ran for the board of the WTA, lost my first attempt, got on the board my second attempt, and stayed there through most of my career.
I remember I used to go to The Laugh Factory and just goof off onstage, and then I'd see Dane Cook. He did a bit about his Mom making the bed in the summertime when he was a kid. He just said "Vroom!" and threw the sheet up in the air and the sheet would just stay over the bed for like a minute and a half. All he had were his arms out, but I could see the sheet. And he didn't do anything. He just kept it there. And I went, "I have to write more."
I open a paperclip and scratch it across the inside of my left wrist. Pitiful. If a suicide attempt is a cry for help, then what is this. A whimper, a peep? I draw little window cracks of blood, etching line after line until it stops hurting.
I told my wife the truth. I told her I was seeing a psychiatrist. Then she told me the truth: that she was seeing a psychiatrist, two plumbers, and a bartender.
I myself spent nine years in an insane asylum and I never had the obsession of suicide, but I know that each conversation with a psychiatrist, every morning at the time of his visit, made me want to hang myself, realizing that I would not be able to cut his throat.
I was coming home from kindergarten - well they told me it was kindergarten. I found out later I had been working in a factory for ten years. It's good for a kid to know how to make gloves.
Jack Palance was my distant uncle - that's the family gossip. Growing up, my family knew everything about his face getting burned and scarred in the military and how that mutilation led him to become such a famous 'heavy' in films. I prayed for good scars of my own. Not just acne scars.
My dad worked in a honey factory - we used to call him the honey monster' - and I worked there.
People sometimes tell me that I don't talk or act or look like a metal fan. Well, what does a metal fan look like? I've found people from all walks of life who love metal.
I've worked with non-professional actors, I've worked with movie stars, I've worked with kids, I've worked with older people, and I've found my job as a director is to cast them well and to understand what they need on set to bring the material to life.
The attitude and capacity of the factory, the old metal table and the new ideas of the wooden furniture quickly and naturally suggested the possibility of metal furniture.
I was a sheet metal worker, then a metal engineer, then a Pontin's bluecoat, then a comedian. You can achieve anything you want if you put your mind to it.
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