We make our own hell out of the people around us.

Only the guy who isn't rowing has time to rock the boat.

A pale reflection of myself wavers in my consciousness...and suddenly the “I” pales, pales, and fades out.

It is not a matter of indifference whether we like oysters or clams, snails or shrimp, if only we know how to unravel the existential significance of these foods.

I'd come to realize that all our troubles spring from our failure to use plain, clear-cut language.

I don't know. Everything. Living. Smoking.

Man is condemned to be free