If I reveal myself without worrying about how others will respond, then some will care, though others may not. But who can love me, if no one knows me? I must risk it, or live alone.

It has been a long time since I believed in Reality. I prefer the loveliness and the terror of my subjective experiences to those coldly scientific explanations which in the long run turn out to be no more real, and far less fun, than my own fantasies and musings.

For each of us, the only hope resides in his own efforts, in completing his own story, not in the other's interpretation. (63)

You can't make anyone love you. You just have to reveal who you are and take your chances. (105)

To live without the creative potential of our own destructiveness is to be a cardboard angel.

So it is that there is nothing to be taught, but yet there is something to be learned.

Often things are as bad as they seem.