Despair is the price one pays for setting himself an impossible aim.

Perhaps the comparison is closer to the Chinese cook who leaves hardly any part of a duck unserved.

At one with the One, it didn't mean a thing besides a glass of Guinness on a sunny day.

So it always is: when you escape to a desert the silence shouts in your ear.

Lies had deserted me, and I felt as lonely as though they had been my only friends.

My two fingers on a typewriter have never connected with my brain. My hand on a pen does. A fountain pen, of course. Ball-point pens are only good for filling out forms on a plane.

Champagne, if you are seeking the truth, is better than a lie detector. It encourages a man to be expansive, even reckless, while lie detectors are only a challenge to tell lies successfully.