And now -- Plato's words mock me in the shadows on the ledge behind the flames: '...the men of the cave would say of him that up he went and down he came without his eyes.

Holy smoke I reely pulled a Charlie Gordon that time.

The world around me and my past seem far away and distorted, as if time and space were taffy being stretched and looped and twisted out of shape.

Thank God for books and music and things I can think about.

Strauss again brought up my need to speak and wrtie simply and directly so that people will understand me. He reminds me that language is sometimes a barrier instead of a pathway. Ironic to find myself on the other side of the intellectual fence.

I see now that the path I choose through the maze makes me what I am. I am not only a thing, but also a way of being--one of many ways--and knowing the paths I have followed and the ones left to take will help me understand what I am becoming.

I am afraid. Not of life, or death, or nothingness, but of wasting it as if I had never been.

I put Algernon's body in a cheese box and buried him in the backyard. I cried.

I am in love with what I am doing, because the answer to this problem is right here in my mind, and soon -- very soon -- it will burst into consciousness.

Now I understand that one of the important reasons for going to college and getting an education is to learn that the things you've believed in all your life aren't true, and that nothing is what it appears to be.

I thought: 'My education is driving a wedge between me and the people I love.' And then I wondered: 'What would happen if it were possible to increase a person's intelligence?'

The answer can't be found in books -- or be solved by bringing it to other people. Not unless you want to remain a child all your life. You've got to find the answer inside you -- feel the right thing to do. Charlie, you've got to learn to trust yourself.

Time assumes another dimension now -- work and absorption in the search for an answer.

I just want to be smart like other pepul so I can have lots of frends who like me.

I want to stop time, freeze myself at this level and never let go of her.

I love the fact that 'Flowers for Algernon' is doing its part to get people reading.

When you mature intellectually we may not be able to communicate. When you mature emotionally you may not even want me.

This is beauty, love, and truth all rolled into one. This is joy. And now that I've found it, how can I give it up? Life and work are the most wonderful things a man can have.

My father never mentioned Him-it was as if God was one of Rose's relatives he'd rather not get involved with.

So this is how a person can come to despise himself-knowing he's doing the wrong thing and not being able to stop.