A large city cannot be experientially known; its life is too manifold for any individual to be able to participate in it.

Two hours. One hundred and twenty minutes. Anything might be done in that time. Anything. Nothing. Oh, he had had hundreds of hours, and what had he done with them? Wasted them, spilt the precious minutes as though his reservoir were inexhaustible.

Let us be kinder to one another.

Happiness is like coke — something you get as a by-product in the process of making something else.

Work is prayer. Work is also stink. Therefore stink is prayer.

We can't allow science to undo its own good work.

Your true traveller finds boredom rather agreeable than painful. It is the symbol of his liberty - his excessive freedom. He accepts his boredom, when it comes, not merely philosophically, but almost with pleasure.