Just think how many thoughts a blanket smothers while one lies alone in bed, and how many unhappy dreams it keeps warm.

The man in ecstasy and the man drowning - both throw up their arms. The first to signify harmony, the second to signify strife with the elements.

One has just been sent out as a biblical dove, has found nothing green, and slips back into the darkness of the Ark

Ours is a lost generation, it may be, but it is more blameless than those earlier generations.

I no longer know If I wish to drown myself in love, vodka or the sea.

As far as I have seen, at school...they aimed at blotting out one's individuality.

How pathetically scanty my self-knowledge is compared with, say, my knowledge of my room. There is no such thing as observation of the inner world, as there is of the outer world.