“Me miserable! Which way shall I flyInfinite wrath and infinite despair?Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;And in the lowest deep a lower deep,Still threat'ning to devour me, opens wide,To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.”

“I shall not speak of my sufferings. Cowering deep down among them I feel nothing. It is there I die, unbeknown to my stupid flesh. That which is seen, that which cries and writhes, my witless remains. Somewhere in the turmoil thought struggles on, it too wide of the mark. It too seeks me, as it always has, where I am not to be found.”

“I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul,The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me,The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I translateinto a new tongue.”

“then I saw that there was a way to hell, even from the gates of heaven.”

“I am paving hell with energy... I am laying down good intentions which I believe durable as flint.”

“Body and soul can never be marriedI need to become who I already am and will bellow forever at this incongruity which has committed me to hell”