Is anyone anywhere happy?

I do not love; I do not love anybody except myself. That is a rather shocking thing to admit.

The one thing I was good at was winning scholarships and prizes, and that era was coming to an end.

I hadn't, at the last moment, felt like washing off the two diagonal lines of dried blood that marked my cheeks. They seemed touching, and rather spectacular, and I thought I would carry them around with me, like the relic of a dead lover, till they wore off of their own accord.

I have no preconceptions. Whatever I see, I swallow immediately. Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike. I am not cruel, only truthful.

I am too pure for you or anyone.

I suppose if I gave myself the chance I could be an alcoholic.