I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.

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I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.

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Is there no way out of the mind?

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Kiss me, and you will see how important I am.

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To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream.

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I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between.

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We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.

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There is nothing like puking with somebody to make you into old friends.

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I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again.

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I desire the things that will destroy me in the end.

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