I am an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger as reason.

The body is an instrument which only gives off music when it is used as a body.

I am quite wiling to confide entirely in human being, except that at some moment or another human beings get preoccupied, moody, busy, inattentive, and there come an end to the interest, and this never happens in a journal!

I see enormous loves growing immense and finally crushing me.

I told her, "We have both lost ourselves, but sometimes we reveal the most when we are least like ourselves. I am not trying to think any more. I can't think when I am with you. You are like me, wishing for a perfect moment, but nothing too long imagined can be perfect in a worldly way. Neither one of us can say just the right thing. We are overwhelmed. Let us be overwhelmed. It is so lovely, so lovely. I love you June.

To lie, of course, is to engender insanity.

Strange, isn't it, that no chemical will give a human being the iridescence that illusions have given them? Give me your hat.