“I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me.”

“There is the darkness of a moonless night out of doors, and there is the darkness of a house with its shutters closed and the lamps quenched. There is the darkness of sleep, relieved by the bright images of dreams. But no darkness is as complete, as blanketing, as terrifying as the utter darkness of underground.”

“Now I am an outcast. I loathe the fatherland. The thing for me is a very drunken sleep on the beach.”

“I am terrified by this dark thingThat sleeps in me;All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.Clouds pass and disperse.Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables?Is it for such I agitate my heart?I am incapable of more knowledge.What is this, this faceSo murderous in its strangle of branches? -Its snaky acids kiss.It petrifies the will. These are the isolate, slow faultsThat kill, that kill, that kill.From the poem "Elm", 19 April 1962”

“I am terrified by the dizzying pleasure of it: I am both here and over there; I am be and I am no longer me!Am I already dead?”

“Now I am an outcast. I loathe my country. The best thing for me is a drunken sleep on the beach.”