He Does Not Need Opium.

My Life Is Slowed Up By Thought And The Need To Understand What I Am Living.

Nowhere Is Inhumanity More Revealed Than In Hospitals.

Adolescence Is Like Cactus.

But I Lie. I Embellish. My Words Are Not Deep Enough. They Disguise, They Conceal. I Will Not Rest Until I Have Told Of My Descent Into A Sensuality Which Was As Dark, As Magnificent, As Wild, As My Moments Of Mystic Creation Have Been Dazzling, Ecstatic, Exalted.

There Is An Ugliness In Being Paid For Work One Does Not Like.