Memory is like a dog that lies down where it pleases.

Language is something you inherit, it's never just you doing the talking, which helps when you're pretending.

I have never cared much for people. Most of them are cowards, conformists, muddleheads, moneygrubbers, and they infect each other.

The world is a never-ending cross-reference.

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?

As far as he could see, the world was moving, in an orderly capitalist fashion, toward a logical, perhaps provisional, perhaps permanent, end.

Memory is like a dog that lies down where it pleases.