All Novelists Should Live In

To Write Poetry And To Commit Suicide, Apparently So Contradictory, Had Really Been The Same, Attempts At Escape.

We All Write Poems; It Is Simply That Poets Are The Ones Who Write In Words.

These Last Few Days I've Felt Godless. I've Felt Cleaner, Less Muddled, Less Blind. I Still Believe In A God. But He's So Remote, So Cold, So Mathematical. I See That We Have To Live As If There Is No God. Prayer And Worship And Singing Hymns-all Silly And Useless.

Do You Know That Every Great Thing In The History Of Art And Every Beautiful Thing In Life Is Actually What You Call Nasty Or Has Been Caused By Feelings That You Would Call Nasty? By Passion, By Love, By Hatred, By Truth. Do You Know That?

I Think We Are Just Insects, We Live A Bit And Then Die And That’s The Lot. There’s No Mercy In Things. There’s Not Even A Great Beyond. There’s Nothing.