And I will die, and you will die, and we all will die, and even the stars will fade out one after another in time.

I was a man of the earth, precisely as I had dreamed I would be.

Go moan for man. It's the pathos of people that gets us down, all the lovers in this dream.

I'm going to marry my novels and have little short stories for children.

What difference does it make after all?--anonymity in the world of men is better than fame in heaven, for what’s heaven? what’s earth? All in the mind.

I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't know who I was - I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I'd never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn't know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost.

Who can leap the world's ties and sit with me among white clouds?