Was insanity really easier to accept than unconsciousness?

It’s like, everything really is two ways, the way we all pretend it is and the way it really is

I really am guilty, of many somethings, all of them lethal and very enjoyable and technically not quite legal.

But of course, there's no rest for the wicked, which I certainly am; as I said, no rest for the wicked.

I had become a perfect fake human, saying the stupid and pointless things that humans say to each other all day long.

In that tremendous flash of freedom, on my way to do The Thing for the first time, sanctioned by Almighty Harry, I receded, faded back into the scenery of my own dark self, whole the other me crouched and growled. I would do It at last, do what I had been created to do. And I did.

A man can take only so much. Even a phony man like me.