Be again, be again. (Pause.) All that old misery. (Pause.) Once wasn't enough for you.

Sloth is all passions the most powerful.

Hold the old holding hand. Hold and be held. Plod on and never recede. Slowly with never a pause plod on and never recede.

Yes, there is no denying it, any longer, it is not you who are dead, but all the others. So you get up and go to your mother, who thinks she is alive. That's my impression. But now I shall have to get myself out of this ditch. How joyfully I would vanish here, sinking deeper and deeper under the rains.

We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. But habit is a great deadener.

If I had the use of my body, I would throw it out the window.

Dear incomprehension, it's thanks to you I'll be myself, in the end.