Cold - cold as truth, cold as life. No, nothing can be as cold as life.

You imagine the carefully pruned, shaped thing that is presented to you is truth. That is just what it isn't. The truth is improbable, the truth is fantastic; it's in what you think is a distorting mirror that you see the truth.

Next week, or next month, or next year I will kill myself. But I might as well last out my month's rent, which has been paid up.

I want more of this feeling - fire and wings.

Life if curious when reduced to its essentials

It's funny, he said, have you ever thought that a girl's clothes cost more than the girl inside them?

...I know all about myself now, I know. You've told me so often. You haven't left me one rag of illusion to clothe myself in.