I felt so lonesome, all of a sudden. I almost wished I was dead.

She was wearing a canary-yellow two-piece bathing suit, one piece of which she would not actually be needing for another nine or ten years.

A confessional passage has probably never been written that didn't stink a little bit of the writer's pride in having given up his pride.

She's quite intelligent, in my stupidity.

I told her I loved her and all. It was a lie, of course, but the thing is, I meant it when I said it. I'm crazy. I swear to God I am.

How long should a man's legs be? Long enough to touch the ground.

It's everybody, I mean. Everything everybody does is so - I don't know - not wrong, or even mean, or even stupid necessarily. But just so tiny and meaningless and - sad-making. And the worst part is, if you go bohemian or something crazy like that, you're conforming just as much only in a different way.