I'd swear to God, if I were a piano player or an actor or something and all those dopes thought I was terrific, I'd hate it. I wouldn't even want them to clap for me. People always clap for the wrong things. If I were a piano player, I'd play it in the goddam closet.

It was that kind of a crazy afternoon, terrifically cold, and no sun out or anything, and you felt like you were disappearing every time you crossed a road.

People never believe you.

If you sat around there long enough and heard all the phonies applauding and all, you got to hate everybody in the world, I swear you did.

I live alone (but catless, I'd like everybody to know).

I don't really deeply feel that anyone needs an airtight reason for quoting from the works of writers he loves, but it's always nice, I'll grant you, if he has one.

I've never seen such a bunch of apple-eaters.