I swear I only want to hear about you, to know what you've been doing. It's a hundred years since we've met-it may be another hundred before we meet again.

In reality they all lived in a kind of hieroglyphic world, where the real thing was never said or done or even thought, but only represented by a set of arbitrary signs.

Damn words; they're just the pots and pans of life, the pails and scrubbing-brushes. I wish I didn't have to think in words.

I don't believe in God, but I do believe in His saints.

After all, one knows one's weak points so well, that it's rather bewildering to have the critics overlook them and invent others.

The taste of the usual was like cinders in his mouth, and there were moments when he felt as if he were being buried alive under his future.

Everything may be labelled- but everybody is not.