Anything I Can Not Transform Into Something

My Trunk, Valises And My Mind Are Overpacked.

The Self Is Merely The Lens Through Which We See Others And The World.

The Period Without The Diary Remains An Ordeal. Every Evening I Want My Diary As One Wants Opium.

That Is My Essential Reason For Writing, Not For Fame, Not To Be Celebrated After Death, But To Heighten And Create Life All Around Me. I Also Write Because When I Am Writing I Reach The High Moment Of Fusion Sought By The Mystics, The Poets, The Lovers, A Sense Of Communion With The Universe.

We Are Beginning To See The Influence Of Dream Upon Reality And Reality Upon Dream.