I'm the seagull. No, that's not it. I'm an actress. That's it.

Common hypocrites pass themselves off as doves; political and literary hypocrites pose as eagles. But don't be fooled by their eagle-like appearance. These are not eagles, but rats or dogs.

There is nothing more awful, insulting, and depressing than banality.

We old bachelors smell like dogs, do we? So be it. But I must take issue with your claim that doctors who treat female illnesses are womanizers and cynics at heart. Gynecologists deal with savage prose the likes of which you have never dreamed of.

Do you remember you shot a seagull? A man came by chance, saw it and destroyed it, just to pass the time.

People's destinies are so different. Some people drag along, unnoticed and boring—they're all alike, and they're all unhappy. Then there are others, like for instance you—you're one in a million. You're happy—

I don’t understand anything about the ballet; all I know is that during the intervals the ballerinas stink like horses.