Having got into bed and turned out the light, I quietly burst into tears because I am not a good person. As they came and went for some minutes, I was concerned with the words following 'because' in the previous sentence, rewriting them over and over in my head until they seemed to be as close to the truth as it was possible for me to make them.

The helpful thought for which you look Is written somewhere in a book.

Ideally, if anything [was] any good, it would be indescribable.

Such excess of passion is quite out of fashion

To take my work seriously would be the height of folly.

It's well we cannot hear the screams we make in other people's dreams.

I feel that I am doing the minimum amount of damage to other possibilities that may take place in a reader's head.