"Don't you want to join us?" I was recently asked by an acquaintance when he ran across me alone after midnight in a coffeehouse that was already almost deserted. "No, I don't," I said.

In argument similes are like songs in love; they describe much, but prove nothing.

What's happened to me,' he thought. It was no dream.

I write differently from what I speak, I speak differently from what I think, I think differently from the way I ought to think, and so it all proceeds into deepest darkness.

I lack nothing. I only needed myself.

Believing in progress does not mean believing that any progress has yet been made.

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