Fortunately I did not need affection.

With his two hands he props up his jaw. He passes without a word. Perhaps he does not see me. One of these days I'll challenge him. I'll say, I don't know, I'll say something, I'll think of something when the time comes.

We are all born mad. Some remain so.

There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet.

The old endless chain of love, tolerance, indifference, aversion and disgust

The tears stream down my cheeks from my unblinking eyes. What makes me weep so? There is nothing saddening here. Perhaps it is liquefied brain.