A lot of truths about the living world are recorded in bad books; they are just badly written about.

The escalator seems to me to typify this: It leads us up, by climbing on our behalf. Yes, it doesn't even climb, it flies. Each step carries its shopper aloft, as though afraid he might change his mind. It takes us up to merchandise we might not have bothered to climb an ordinary flight of steps for.

There is a fear of voluptuousness that is itself voluptuous, just as a certain fear of death can itself be deadly.

Anyway, I am unfitted to hold down a job anywhere unless they were to pay me for getting angry at the world." 96

I believe that my observations have always led me to find that the so-called realist moves about the world with a closed mind, ringed as it were with concrete and cement, and that the so-called romantic is like an unfenced garden in and out of which truth can wander at will.

A lot of truths about the living world are recorded in bad books; they are just badly written about.

A moving shadow means more to us than a body at rest. We are no longer taken in by a fixed grin. We know that only death has a rictus.