Love, Arthur, is a poodle's chance of attaining the infinite, and personally I have my pride.

To philosophize is only another way of being afraid and leads hardly anywhere but to cowardly make-believe.

When you're not used to comfort and good things to eat, you're intoxicated by them in no time. Truth's only too pleased to leave you. Very little is ever needed for Truth to let go of you. And after all, you're not really very keen to keep hold of it.

When you stay too long in the same place, things and people go to pot on you, they rot and start stinking for your special benefit.

All in all, death is something like marriage.

I crawled back into myself all alone, just delighted to observe that I was even more miserable than before, because I had brought a new kind of distress and something that resembled true feeling into my solitude.

Our journey is entirely imaginary. That is its strength.