You said you were having fun.""Well, yes and no, strictly speaking I was in hell. Perhaps I have always been there. One can have fun in hell.

Yes, I am free, she said to herself, but it's not like ordinary freedom, it's being in hell, a brilliant lucid hell.

Little pictures out of hell.

All chances of happiness are gone from me. Just being with myself is hell all the time anyway.

I would like to send you to hell.""My dear, I live in hell, and have done so since I was a small child.""Since I regained my mind I have thought, and dreamt too, of nothing but of killing you.""You can do it any time, if you don't mind going to prison.

Sometimes he felt like a victim constantly revived in order to suffer more.

I tasted injustice and the special horror of seeing its perpetrators flourish. How frequent and how bitter is this aspect of human wretchedness. The wicked prosper in front of our eyes and go on and on and on prospering. What a blessing it must have been once to be able to believe in hell. A great and deep human consolation was lost to us when that ancient and respectable belief faded from our minds.

Priscilla is in hell. Well, we all are. Life is torture, consciousness is torture. All our little devices are just morphia to stop us from screaming . . . We're each of us screaming away in our own private padded cell.

He thought, this is hell, not being able to live with oneself.