About morals, I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and what is immoral is what you feel bad after.

I kept this to remind me of you trying to brush away the Villa Rossa from your teeth in the morning, swearing and eating aspirin and cursing harlots. Every time I see that glass I think of you trying to clean your conscience with a toothbrush.

You know I don't love any one but you. You shouldn't mind because some one else loved me.

You're an expatriate. You've lost touch with the soil. You get precious. Fake European standards have ruined you. You drink yourself to death. You become obsessed by sex. You spend all your time talking, not working. You are an expatriate, see? You hang around cafTs.

All things truly wicked start from innocence.

Wine is a grand thing," I said. "It makes you forget all the bad.

You may talk. And I may listen. And miracles might happen.