I saw that pain and disease existed and at the same time that they were void of sense and meaning. Among the men of the rabble I had become a creature of a strange, unknown race, so much so that they had forgotten that I had once been part of their world. I had the dreadful sensation that I was not really alive or wholly dead. I was a living corpse, unrelated to the world of living people and at the same time deprived of the oblivion and peace of death.
Writing is a dreadful labor, yet not so dreadful as Idleness.
It is dreadful to see actors reproducing the same image constantly.
Tony Blair is a dreadful man; really truly dreadful.
