Searching nature I taste self but at one tankard, that of my own being.

I find myself both as man and as myself something more determined and distinctive, at pitch, more distinctive and higher pitched than anything else I see.

I consider my selfbeing ... that taste of myself, of I and me above and in all things, which is more distinctive than the taste of ale or alum, more distinctiv…

When I compare myself, my being-myself, with anything else whatever, all things alike, all in the same degree, rebuff me with blank unlikeness.

I am nature.

Individualism is rather like innocence; there must be something unconscious about it.

I project a definite innocence. A lot of that is just the way I grew up.