Soon we will be strangers. No, we can never be that. Hurting someone is an act of reluctant intimacy. We will be dangerous acquaintances with a history.

England has become a squalid, uncomfortable, ugly place ... an intolerant, racist, homophobic, narrow-minded, authoritarian, rat-hole run by vicious, suburban-minded, materialistic philistines.

I don't want to be loved. I want to be desired. Love is safety, but desire is foul.

Almost certainly I will not tell her my intentions this evening or tonight. I will put it off. Why? Because words are actions and they make things happen. Once they are out you cannot put them back.

If you get depressed, you can be stuck for months; if you have an analyst, you at least have a chance of getting out of it faster.

If you want something badly enough, you make arrangements. If you don't want it badly enough, you make excuses.

I am determined to live without illusions. I want to look at reality straight. Without hiding.