There is nothing that you can do to me that my own craziness doesn't do to me smarter and faster and better.

The horror of the Pit lay in the emergence from it, with the return of her will, her caring, and her feeling of the need for meaning before the return of the meaning itself".

She now knew that the death she feared might not be a physical one, that it could be death of the will, the soul, the mind, the laws, and thus not death, but a perpetual dying.

If I want to die, what am I saving myself for?

The woman was sane; she accepted the heavy penalties of reality and enjoyed its gifts also.

suicide is the ultimate 'one-up,' as it were, the accusation that brooks no defense, the argument won at last.

A humane and authentic book written by another voice from the trenches.