He felt so lost, he said later, that the familiar studio felt like a haunted valley deep in the mountains, with the smell of rotting leaves, the spray of a waterfall, the sour fumes of fruit stashed away by a monkey; even the dim glow of the master's oil lamp on its tripod looked to him like misty moonlight in the hills.
Ryūnosuke AkutagawaYes -- or rather, it's not so much that I want to die as that I'm tired of living.
Ryūnosuke AkutagawaI have no conscience at all -- least of all an artistic conscience. All I have is nerves.
Ryūnosuke Akutagawa