I felt dull and flat and full of shattered visions.

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 do not know who I am tonight.

A dispassionate white sun shone at the summit of the sky. I wanted to hone myself on it till I grew saintly and thin and essential as the blade of a knife.

If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression Of something beautiful, but annihilating.

I said: I must remember this, being small.

Intoxicated with madness, I'm in love with my sadness