In the great glasshouses streaming with condensation, the children in mourning-dress beheld marvels.

Now I am an outcast. I loathe my country. The best thing for me is a drunken sleep on the beach.

I'm intact, and I don't give a damn.

...You have to pass an exam, and the jobs that you get are either to shine shoes, or to herd cows, or to tend pigs. Thank God, I don't want any of that! Damn it! And besides that they smack you for a reward; they call you an animal and it's not true, a little kid, etc.. Oh! Damn Damn Damn Damn Damn!

But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.

Life is the farce we are all forced to endure.

Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.