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 am the only real truth I know.

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

that expression you get in your eyes when you are very tired and everything is like a dream and you are starting to know what things are like underneath what people say they are.

I've been so ridiculous all my life that a little bit more or a little bit less hardly matters now.

After all this, what happened? What happened was that, as soon as I had the slightest chance of a place to hide in, I crept into it and hid. Well, sometimes it's a fine day isn't it? Sometimes the skies are blue. Sometimes the air is light, easy to breathe. And there is always tomorrow.

It was like letting go and falling back into water and seeing yourself grinning up through the water, your face like a mask, and seeing the bubbles coming up as if you were trying to speak from under the water. And how do you know what it's like to try to speak from under water when you're drowned?