I Lack Nothing. I Only

Ours Is A Lost Generation, It May Be, But It Is More Blameless Than Those Earlier Generations.

Books Are A Narcotic.

My Peers, Lately, Have Found Companionship Through Means Of Intoxication - It Makes Them Sociable. I, However, Cannot Force Myself To Use Drugs To Cheat On My Loneliness - It Is All That I Have - And When The Drugs And Alcohol Dissipate, Will Be All That My Peers Have As Well.

In A Certain Sense You Deny The Existence Of This World. You Explain Life As A State Of Rest, A State Of Rest In Motion.

I Have The True Feeling Of Myself Only When I Am Unbearably Unhappy.