“I could understand the moon leaning across a bar on skid rowand asking for a drink, but I couldn't understand anything about myself,I was murdered, I was shit, I was a tentful of dogs,I was poppies mowed down by machine-gun fireI was a hotshot wasp in a webI was less and less and still reaching forsomething, and I thought of her corny remarka night or so ago:You have wounded eyes.”

“But if neither sadness or rage could unite us, I didn't know what could - the more I wanted to identify with her, the more I identified with myself; and the more I tried to understand her, the less, necessarily, I succeeded: the failure of an intelligent mind to grasp feeblemindedness was dark and deep, no less than the failure of a feeble mind to grasp intelligence, because intelligence got its shape by not understanding the thing it could never be.”

“I don't understand a thing about this world: about people, and why they do the things they do. The more I find out, the more I uncover, the more I know, the less I understand.”

“The more I know, the less I understand”

“As I grow to understand life less and less,I learn to love it more and more.”

“I have not seen anywhere in the world a more obvious malformed person and miracle than myself. Through use and time we become conditioned to anything strange; but the more I become familiar with and know myself, the more my deformity amazes me and the less I understand myself.”