A major character has to come somehow out of the unconscious.

If two people loved, they slept together; it was a mathematical formula, tested and proved by human experience.

I envied those who could believe in a God and I distrusted them. I felt they were keeping their courage up with a fable of the changeless and the permanent. Death was far more certain than God, and with death there would be no longer the possibility of love dying.

To comfort me is like the wrong memory at the wrong place or time: if one is lonely one prefers discomfort.

The trouble is I don't believe my unbelief.

They think my mother's ashes are marijuana.

They had been corrupted by money, and he had been corrupted by sentiment. Sentiment was the more dangerous, because you couldn’t name its price. A man open to bribes was to be relied upon below a certain figure, but sentiment might uncoil in the heart at a name, a photograph, even a smell remembered.