I long to be ... Like Other People! The extraordinary, ungetatable, oddly cruel Other People, with their way of wantonly hurting and then accusing you of being thin-skinned, sulky, vindictive or ridiculous.

And I saw that all my life I had known that this was going to happen, and that I'd been afraid for a long time, I'd been afraid for a long time. There's fear, of course, with everybody. But now it had grown, it had grown gigantic; it filled me and it filled the whole world.

I would never be part of anything. I would never really belong anywhere, and I knew it, and all my life would be the same, trying to belong, and failing. Always something would go wrong. I am a stranger and I always will be, and after all I didn’t really care.

I took the red dress down and put it against myself. 'Does it make me look intemperate and unchaste?' I said.

If I was bound for hell, let it be hell. No more false heaven. No more damned magic.

And what does anyone know about traitors, or why Judas did what he did?

The last time you were happy about nothing; the first time you were afraid about nothing. Which came first?