Living, just by itself - what a dirge that is! Life is a classroom and Boredom's the usher, there all the time to spy on you.

With two thousand years of Christianity behind him... a man can't see a regiment of soldiers march past without going off the deep end. It starts off far too many ideas in his head.

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

There is no rest for the humble except in despising the great, whose only thought of the people is inspired by self-interest or sadism.

Our journey is entirely imaginary. That is its strength.

You can lose your way groping among the shadows of the past. It's frightening how many people and things there are in a man's past that have stopped moving. The living people we've lost in the crypts of time sleep so soundly side by side with the dead that the same darkness envelops them all. As we grow older, we no longer know whom to awaken, the living or the dead.

When you stop to examine the way in which our words are formed and uttered, our sentences are hard-put to it to survive the disaster of their slobbery origins.