My different personalities leave me in peace now.

The horrors of war, pale beside the loss of a mother

Papa continually emphasizes how much remains unexplained. With the other psychoanalytic writers, everything is always so known and fixed.

Everyone here says in a surprised manner that I have grown... they are so stupid and do not notice that I am standing up straighter!

If I have a stupid day, everything looks wrong to me.

We live trapped, between the churned-up and examined past and a future that waits for our work.

I am glad that I do not have any children.