I did not want to write, but I had to resign myself to it in the end.

I use the words you taught me. If they don't mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.

The loss of my sight was a great fillip. If I could go deaf and dumb I think I might pant on to be a hundred.

I gave up before birth.

They never lynch children, babies, no matter what they do they are whitewashed in advance.

Let me go to hell, that's all I ask, and go on cursing them there, and them look down and hear me, that might take some of the shine off their bliss.

I want very much to be back in the caul, on my back in the dark forever.