Everything Is Absurd.

Friends: Not One. Just A Few Acquaintances Who Imagine They Feel Something For Me And Who Might Be Sorry If A Train Ran Over Me And The Funeral Was On A Rainy Day.

Let Us Sculpt In Hopeless Silence All Our Dreams Of Speaking.

I've Reached The Point Where Tedium Is A Person, The Incarnate Fiction Of My Own Company.

My Joy Is As Painful As My Pain.

The Idea Of Any Social Obligation ... Just The Idea Of It Embarasses My Thoughts For A Day, And Sometimes It's Since The Day Before That I Worry, And Don't Sleep Well, And The Real Affair, When It Happens, Is Absolutely Insignificant And Justifies Nothing; And The Case Repeats Itself And I Never Learn To Learn.