He regarded life as a rather odd club of which he had accidentally become a member and from which one could be expelled without reasons having to be supplied. He had already decided to leave the club if the meetings should become all too boring. But how boring is boring?
The world is a never-ending cross-reference.
Memory is like a dog that lies down where it pleases.
She had nothing to do all day ... but did it with the greatest possible speed.
I am a hindrance to the world, and the world is a hindrance to me.
I find it unbearable to need a body in order to exist.