See, the darkness is leaking from the cracks. I cannot contain it. I cannot contain my life.

For the few little successes I may seem to have, there are acres of misgivings and self-doubt.

Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn't stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren't having any of those.

What is so real as the cry of a child? A rabbit's cry may be wilder But it has no soul.

I had hoped, at my departure, I would feel sure and knowledgeable about everything that lay ahead -- after all, I had been "analyzed." Instead, all I could see were question marks.

But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn't do it.

Like a cat I have nine times to die.