“I would sit there looking at the heads on an overstuffed chair, tripping on them on my bed, looking at then when one of them somehow becomes unsettled, comes rolling down the chair, very grisly. Tumbling down the chair, rolls across the cushion and hits the rug - ‘bonk.’ The neighbour downstairs hates my guts. I’m always making noise late at night. He gets a broom and whacks on the ceiling. ‘Buddy,’ I say, ‘I’m sorry for that, dropped my head, sorry.’ That helped bring me out of the depression. I would trip on that.”
- Edmund Kemper.













