Happiness lies within one's self, and the way to dig it out is cocaine.

I hardly ever talk- words seem such a waste, and they are none of them true. No one has yet invented a language from my point of view.

It is necessary, in this world, to be made of harder stuff than one's environment.

He shall fall down into a pit called Because, and there he shall perish with the dogs of reason.

I am certainly of opinion that genius can be acquired, or, in the alternative, that it is an almost universal possession.

I have never grown out of the infantile belief that the universe was made for me to suck.

The nails from a suicide's coffin, and the skull of the parricide, were of course no trouble; for Vesquit never traveled without these household requisites.