“All is going well, very well, I couldn’t ask for anything better—So why do I hate my life?”

“Did I go out of my way looking for trouble, you ask. Well, not exactly. Perhaps it was the inner voice that warned me that someday I would write it all down, so it better be entertaining.”

“9p.m. My flat. Feel very strange and empty. Is all very well thinking everything is going to be different when you come back but then it is all the same. Suppose I have to make it different. But what am I going to do with my life? I know. Will eat some cheese.”

“. . . And she said it was a pity, because my father was so “keen”, and what did I care about?So I said, well, I was not quite sure, but on the whole I thought I liked having everything very tidy and calm all around me, and not being bothered to do things, and laughing at the kind of joke other people didn’t think at all funny, and going for country walks, and not being asked to express opinions about things (like love, and isn’t so-and-so peculiar?). So then she said, oh, well, didn’t I think I could try to be a little less slack, because of Father, and I said no, I was I afraid I couldn’t; and after that she left me alone. But all the others still said I was no good.”

“I never have more than one drink before dinner. But I do like that one to be large and very strong and very cold and very well-made. I hate small portions of anything, particularly when they taste bad.”

“If I repent of anything, it is very likely to be my good behavior. What demon possessed me that I behaved so well?”