These last few days I've felt Godless. I've felt cleaner, less muddled, less blind. I still believe in a God. But he's so remote, so cold, so mathematical. I see that we have to live as if there is no God. Prayer and worship and singing hymns-all silly and useless.

To despise all effort is the greatest effort of all.

There is no plan. All is hazard. And the only thing that will preserve us is ourselves.

Always we try to put the wild in a cage.

Duty is but a pot. It holds whatever is put in it, from the greatest evil to the greatest good.

To write poetry and to commit suicide, apparently so contradictory, had really been the same, attempts at escape.

The profoundest distances are never geographical.