Endings are elusive, middles are nowhere to be found, but worst of all is to begin, to begin, to begin.

The aim of literature ... is the creation of a strange object covered with fur which breaks your heart.

Is death that which gives meaning to life? And I said, no, life is that which gives meaning to life.

I don't think you can talk about progress in art - movement, but not progress. You can speak of a point on a line for the purpose of locating things, but it's a horizontal line, not a vertical one.

The writer is one who, emnbarking upon a task, does not know what to do.

There was no particular point at which I stopped being promising.

And I sat there getting drunker and drunker and more in love and more in love...And you can never touch a girl in the same way more than once, twice, or another number of times however much you may wish to hold, wrap, or otherwise fix her hand, or look, or some other quality, or incident, known to you previously.