What I didn't say was that each time I picked up a German dictionary or a German book, the very sight of those dense, black, barbed-wire letters made my mind shut like a clam.

I began to see why woman-haters could make such fools of women. Woman-haters were like gods: invulnerable and chock full of power. They descended, and then they disappeared. You could never catch one.

I feel, am mad as any writer must in one way be; why not make it real? I am too close to the bourgeois society of suburbia: too close to people I know I must sever my self from them, or be a part of their world: this half and half compromise is intolerable.

I have taken a pill to kill The thin Papery feeling.

Eternity bores me, I never wanted it.

If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell.

You cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time.