I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.

I felt dull and flat and full of shattered visions.

I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant loosing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

I smile, now, thinking: we all like to think we are important enough to need psychiatrists

I do not know who I am, where I am going - and I am the one who has to decide the answers to these hideous questions.

I believe that one should be able to control and manipulate experiences, even the most terrific, like madness, being tortured, this sort of experience, and one should be able to manipulate these experiences with an informed and an intelligent mini.

This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary. The trees of the mind are black. The light is blue.