Nations are as equal as so many madmen or drunkards.

There are vampires and vampires, and not all of them suck blood.

Yet for all the childish innocence of its bizarre glamor, Venice developed an atmosphere, or became the outpost of a sinister deep-rooted power.... It is a place of dreams, not only the tinseled ones.

Traffic growled and snarled, rising at times to a machine-gun rata-tat-tat, while pedestrians were scuttling about with that desperate ratlike urgency characteristic of all big American cities, but which reaches its ultimate in New York.

Nations are as equal as so many madmen or drunkards.

What was life worth, anyway, if you had to sit around remembering not to mention this, that, and the other thing because someone else might be upset?

What do you care? You always liked loneliness better than you liked people. No offence liking yourself's the beginning of all love.