I think like a genius, I write like a distinguished author, and I speak like a child.

He was afraid of touching his own wrist. He never attempted to sleep on his left side, even in those dismal hours of the night when the insomniac longs for a third side after trying the two he has.

Revelation can be more perilous than Revolution.

I have never seen a more lucid, more lonely, better balanced mad mind than mine.

The summer night was starless and stirless, with distant spasms of silent lightning.

I was also supposed to quiz my various companions on a number of important matters such as nostalgia, fear of unknown animals, food fantasies, nocturnal emissions, hobbies, choice of radio program, changes in out look and so forth.

Was she really beautiful? Was she at least what they call attractive? She was exasperation, she was torture.