I've got to get this stuff out of my system. No, more than that, much more. I've got to get my system out of my system. That's what I've got to do. - Martin Amis

And there was something that frightened me much more. If I went to the doctor's tomorrow, and was cured by, say, the weekend, there'd be no relief from anxiety, just different anxiety. Even as the antibiotics hosed down my genitals, the mind's bacteria would be forming new armies. I'd come up with something to get me down...

Was this the case with everyone — everyone, that is, who wasn't already a thalidomide baked-bean, or a gangrenous imbecile, or degradingly poor, or irretrievably ugly, and would therefore have pretty obvious targets for their worries? If so, the notion of 'having problems' — or 'having a harder life than most people', or 'having a harder life than you usually had' — was spurious. You don't have problems, only a capacity for feeling anxious about them, which shifts and jostles but doesn't change.

Laughter always forgives.

People who go to the Opera, they don't go to the toilet, not even at home.