I often find myself in situations where it seems to me like everyone else has read the instruction book

For my part, my interest in Paris had faded away completely long ago when I learned that it was in France.

I was good at being charming, one of my very few vanities.

What do you want a clock for?” “To find out what time it is,” I said. “I think that’s the usual purpose.

Nothing else loves me, or ever will. Not even - especially - me. I know what I am and that is not a thing to love.

Really now: If you can't get me my newspaper on time, how can you expect me to refrain from killing people?

Rectory always sounded to me like a place where you would find a proctologist.