The part of me which wanders through my mind and never sees or feels actual objects, but which lives in and moves through my passions and my emotions, experiences this world as a horrible nightmare.

Paranoia is an illness I contracted in institutions. It is not the reason for my sentences to reform school and prison. It is the effect, not the cause.

Because there is something helpless and weak and innocent - something like an infant - deep inside us all that really suffers in ways we would never permit an insect to suffer.

I feel that if I ever did adjust to prison, I could by that alone never adjust to society.

Imagine a thousand more such daily intrusions in your life, every hour and minute of every day, and you can grasp the source of this paranoia, this anger that could consume me at any moment if I lost control.

When they talk of ghosts of the dead who wander in the night with things still undone in life, they approximate my subjective experience of this life.

One morning I woke up and was plunged into psychological shock. I had forgotten I was free.