I can understand other people's situations in their own terms, but I still can't understand mine.

It's like my having to walk down thousands and thousands of white marble stairs...and nothing but a very very blue sky, very blue...and I'd have to walk down them forever. I never thought about going up...Don't you think that must mean something?

I'm afraid of habit patterns...It would be too much of a routine if you had to establish definite ways of getting through things. You'd get very bored.

I can understand other people's situations in their own terms, but I still can't understand mine.

It's sort of like a mockery in a way of reality because they think everything is smiles and sweetness and flowers when there is something bitter to taste. And to pretend there isn't is foolish. I mean the ones that wonder around and know, at the same time, and yet wear flowers, and they deserve to wear flowers. And they've earned their smile...you can tell by people's eyes.

I'll have to put more earrings on. I bet that someone could analyze me and tell my condition by my earrings.

Why do people stop developing, or, like they stop the way you can rate their, psychologically, their development? Where they stop, and just from being children to maybe stopping at a very adolescent age, and they stay there until they die. Physically die. I mean, they react adolescently. They don't change. They don't develop. They don't — it's that continual read, that process which is is the total threat for the ego.