They were like the man with the dungeon stone and gloom, rising from the underground, the sordid hipsters of America, a new beat generation that I was slowly joining.

And the Hippos were boiled in their tanks!

My witness is the empty sky.

For the first time in my life the weather was not something that touched me, that caressed me, froze or sweated me, but became me.

Desolation, desolation, I owe so much to desolation.

The happiness consists in realizing that it is all a great strange dream.

But, outside of being a sweet little girl, she was awfully dumb and capable of doing horrible things.