“I pretend I’ve got lots of confidence and I’m a big jock and like that but deep inside I’m a frightened, insecure, can’t-make-it failure.”

one day I’ll be old, without ever having really been young

I guess I’ll never measure up to anyone’s expectations. I surely don’t measure up to what I’d like to be.

I bet the pill is harder to get than drugs–which shows how screwed up this world really is!

How can thoughts hurt so much when they aren’t even physical?

I really am only one infinitely small part of an aching humanity.

They have accepted me as an individual, as a personality, as an entity. I belong! I am important! I am somebody!

I can’t believe that I changed so little. I expected to look old and hollow and gray, but I guess it’s only me on the inside that has shriveled and deteriorated.

Nobody’s talking to me, but nobody’s hassling me either. I guess you can’t have everything.

The voice of every kid hooked on drugs, alcohol or the occult joins the sad chorus “Not me! I didn’t think it could ever happen to me. I was sure I could handle it.

She didn’t know whether she was running away from something or running to something, but she admitted that deep in her heart she wanted to go home.

Sometimes fantasies are better than life.

Maybe the new me will be different.

Why is life so difficult? Why can’t we be just ourselves and have everyone accept us the way we are?

I’m not really sure which parts of myself are real and which parts are things I’ve gotten from books.

My biggest mistake: not wanting to help myself into thinking I am happy, that change would come about without really trying to change, or wanting to change. Procrastinating about changing. I do want to change.

How is it possible for me to be so miserable and embarrassed and humiliated and beaten an function still talk and smile and concentrate?

I’m not really frightened by experimenting – that’s the main thing. I really like mixing very old beautiful pieces that are from thrift shops or that have some historical value with quite new futuristic things.

If you’ve a notion of what man’s heart is, wouldn’t you say that maybe the whole effort of man on earth to build a civilization is simply man’s frantic and frightened attempt to hide himself from himself?

Everybody’s frightened a bit. But how many of us just go through the fear and do it anyway?

The holy and the evil, the high and the low, the white and the black; our America is frightened of fact, of history, of processes, of necessity.

Actors are frightened little children.

Its a sad moment, really, when parents first become a bit frightened of their children.

I have found it easier to identify with the characters who verge upon hysteria, who were frightened of life, who were desperate to reach out to another person.

Pentecost came with the sound of a mighty rushing wind, a violent blast from heaven! Heaven has not exhausted its blasts, but our danger is we are getting frightened of them.