The Flowers of Buffoonery

by Osamu Dazai

Enough. Shame on me for making such a mockery of myself. Blame it on my wounded pride. The fact is that my fear of being ridiculed is so intense I’d rather beat my critics to the punch. That’s the epitome of cowardice.

Note to self

I cannot love a woman without smothering her with commentary. Proof that if a man is dumb enough, he can do harm without lifting a finger.

We’re all a bunch of clowns. If you want to see a farce, look in the mirror.