I felt dull and flat and full of shattered visions.

I wish you’d find the exit out of my head.

I think I am mad sometimes.

I like you, but not too much. I don’t want to like anybody too much.

I, to you, am lost in the gorgeous errors of flesh.

…beating time along the edge of thought.

I decided I would put off the novel until I had gone to Europe and had a lover, and that I would never learn a word of shorthand. If I never learned shorthand I would never have to use it.