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

In my room I'd barely closed my eyes when the blonde from the movie house came along and sang her whole song of sorrow just for me. I helped her put me to sleep, so to speak, and succeeded pretty well... I wasn't entirely alone... It's not possible to sleep alone.

The sadness of the world has different ways of getting to people, but it seems to succeed almost every time.

People avenge themselves for the favors done them.

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.

I warn you that when the princes of this world start loving you it means they are going to grind you up into battle sausage.

Almost every desire a poor man has is a punishable offence.