I lack nothing. I only needed myself.

Every dog has like me the impulse to question, and I have like every dog the impulse not to answer.

I can't feel a thing; All mournful petal storms are dancing inside the very private spring of my head.

Don Quixote's misfortune is not his imagination, but Sancho Panza.

If I didn't have my parents to think about I'd have given in my notice a long time ago, I'd have gone up to the boss and told him just what I think, tell him everything I would, let him know just what I feel. He'd fall right off his desk! And it's a funny sort of business to be sitting up there at your desk, talking down at your subordinates from up there, especially when you have to go right up close because the boss is hard of hearing.

My 'fear' is my substance, and probably the best part of me.

Let me remind you of the old maxim: people under suspicion are better moving than at rest, since at rest they may be sitting in the balance without knowing it, being weighed together with their sins.