People avenge themselves for the favors done them.

I piss on you all from a considerable height.

I'd seen too many troubling things to be easy in my mind. I knew too much and not enough. I'd better go out, I said to myself, I'd better go out again.

My trouble is insomnia. If I had always slept properly, I'd never have written a line.

All in all, death is something like marriage.

The novel can't compete with cars, the movies, television, and liquor. A guy who's had a good feed and tanked up on good wine gives his old lady a kiss after supper and his day is over. Finished.

Most people die at the last minute; others twenty years beforehand, some even earlier. They are the wretched of the earth.