He did not want that old sanity of the world, which was become so repulsive.

He rejoiced in the new-found world of his madness.

It was so fresh and delicate and so satisfying.
As for the certain grief he felt at the same time, in his soul, that was only the remains of an old ethic, that bade a human being adhere to humanity.

But he was weary of the old ethic, of the human being, and of humanity.

He loved now the soft, delicate vegetation, that was so cool and perfect.