He was a gentle and sensitive soul, and therefore had a short temper, which is why he went straight after everything with an ax.

I was always lucky in my bad luck.

No book worth its salt is meant to put you to sleep, it's meant to make you jump out of your bed in your underwear and run and beat the author's brains out.

I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop.

He was a gentle and sensitive soul, and therefore had a short temper, which is why he went straight after everything with an ax.

And so everything I see in this world, it all moves backward and forward at the same time, like a black-smith's bellows, like everything in my press, turning into its opposite at the command of the red and green buttons, and that's what makes the world go round.

I expect them to tell me things about myself I don't know.