I'm Trying To Die Correctly, But It's

I Am Just A Refugee From The Long Slow Toothache Of English Life. It Is Terrible To Love Life So Much You Can Hardly Breathe!

She Took Kisses Like So Many Coats Of Paint […] How Long And How Vainly I Searched For Excuses Which Might Make Her Amorality If Not Palatable At Lest Understandable. I Realize Now The Time I Wasted In This Way; Instead Of Enjoying Her And Turning Aside From These Preoccupations With The Thought, ‘she Is Untrustworthy As She Is Beautiful. She Takes Love As Plants Do Water, Lightly, Thoughtlessly.

The Sense Of Truth No Matter How Subjective Is Necessary For The Experience Of Beauty.

We Are All Hunting For Rational Reasons For Believing In The Absurd.

A Diary Is The Last Place To Go If You Wish To Seek The Truth About A Person. Nobody Dares To Make The Final Confession To Themselves On Paper: Or At Least, Not About Love.