Lots of men are like that, their artistic leanings never go beyond a weakness for shapely thighs.

The mind is satisfied with phrased, but not the body, the body is more fastidious, it wants muscles. A body always tells the truth, that's why it's usually depressing and disgusting to look at.

The plain truth, I may as well admit it, is that I've never been really right in the head.

When it becomes really impossible to get away and sleep, then the will to live evaporates of its own accord.

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.

This instinctive repulsion which tradespeople inspire in men of sensitive feeling is one of the very rare consolations for being so impoverished which are given to those of us who don’t sell anything to anybody.

Experience is a dim lamp, which only lights the one who bears it.