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Aleister Crowley Diary Entry Friday, 24 September 1920
Alone in Naples! (Pious and melancholy reflections are momentarily deferred.) Only half a bottle of absinthe between me and utter destitution! I suspected Green, the tailor: it was unpleasant. Greedy, cringing, lying, mean, servile, cowardly, nine of his would only make a Bengali.
The Three Tailors of Tooley Street were laughed at for saying, 'We, the people of England'—but they were! I am suddenly stricken with remorse. I simply can't believe that a human being can be so abject as the average free-born Briton. I find myself taking his side, in a mood like Dickens at his worst. I am sick with myself, for while I know in my mind that man is mostly muck, I deny it passionately in my soul and raise my Will-wand, my Word 'It shall not be' echoing immutable hollows of thought 'It is not'.
3.30 p.m. By a strong effort of will I have refrained from apologizing to the tailor. I also saw a film a legge of 'Dora'. Excellent-makes me quite hopeful.
I had a battle royal with the manager before lunch—lion against cat.
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