I am over-run, jungled in my bed, I am infested with a menagerie of desires: my heart is eaten by a dove, a cat scrambles in the cave of my sex, hounds in my bed obey a whipmaster who cries nothing but havoc as the hours test my endurance with an accumulation of tortures. Who, if I cried, would hear me among the angelic orders?

Work is the only only only remedy for life: for happiness, for interest, for stability, for security. Hard, willed work. Oh work!

You have to have short fingernails or they'd just break off, and you can't wear red polish - it looks like your fingers are bleeding.

All time is now, and time can do no better. Nothing can ever be more now than now, and before this nothing was.

I am possessed by love and have no options.

Go to the ant, thou sluggard, learn to live, and by her busy ways, reform thy own.

O I know they make war because they want peace; they hate so that they may live; and they destroy the present to make the world safe for the future. When have they not done and said they did it for that?