I collect men with interesting names.

...we shall board our imagined ship and wildly sail among sacred islands of the mad till death shatters the fabulous stars and makes us real.

I want to kill myself, to escape from responsiblity, to crawl abjectly back into the womb.

I am sending back the key that let me into bluebeard's study; because he would make love to me I am sending back the key; in his eye's darkroom I can see my X-rayed heart, dissected body: I am sending back the key that let me into bluebeard s study.

I knew you'd decide to be all right again.

Tomorrow is another day toward death.

Is there no way out of the mind?