Finished, it's finished, nearly finished, it must be nearly finished. Grain upon grain, one by one, and one day, suddenly, there's a heap, a little heap, the impossible heap. I can't be punished any more. I'll go now to my kitchen, ten feet by ten feet by ten feet, and wait for him to whistle me. Nice dimensions, nice proportions, I'll lean on the table, and look at the wall, and wait for him to whistle me.

Spend the years of learning squandering Courage for the years of wandering Through a world politely turning From the loutishness of learning.

Yes, I dont know why, but I have never been disappointed, and I often was in the early days, without feeling at the same time, or a moment later, an undeniable relief.

Habit is a compromise effected between the individual and his environment, or between the individual and his own organic eccentricities, the guarantee of a dull inviolability, the lightning-conductor of his existence.

it's impossible I should have a mind and I have one

To find a form that accommodates the shape of the mess, that is the task of the artist now.

I knew it would soon be the end, so I played the part, you know, the part of — how shall I say, I don’t know.