All novels are experimental.
Each man kills the thing he loves.
The unconscious mind has a habit of asserting itself in the afternoon.
Sanity is a handicap and liability if you're living in a mad world.
Well, well, well, well. If it isn't fat, stinking billygoat Billy-Boy in poison. How art thou, thou globby bottle of cheap, stinking chip-oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if you have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly thou.
I see what is right and approve, but I do what is wrong.