Without knowing what I am and why I am here, life is impossible.

I am convinced that during bouts of insomnia, I have sometimes slept without knowing it.

I sit on a man's back, choking him and making him carry me, and yet assure myself and others that I am very sorry for him and wish to ease his lot by all possible means - except by getting off his back.

I am here wrongfully convicted and wrongfully sentenced.

It's impossible to be more flat-chested than I am.

I am a teacher. And I think I am a serious one who happens to be enjoying life.