The man creates a pseudonym and hides behind it like a worm

I am still raw. I say I may be back. You know what lies are for. Even in your Zen heaven we shan't meet.

I drink sherry and wine by myself because I like it and I get the sensuous feeling of indulgence...luxury, bliss, erotic-tinged.

I thought how strange it had never occurred to me before that I was only purely happy until I was nine years old.

Happy! That is indefinable as far as states of being go.

And if you have no past or future which, after all, is all that the present is made of, why then you may as well dispose of the empty shell of present and commit suicide.

Tomorrow is another day toward death.