All observations of life are harsh, because life is. I lament that fact, but I cannot change it.

The reader cannot see into your heart. He will know only what you tell him. Make the blind see your words. Make the hard-hearted feel. Make the deaf hear.

Walter turned on the radio: electric violins wailing, twisted romance, the four-square beat of heartbreak. Trite suffering, but suffering nonetheless. The entertainment business. What voyeurs we have all become.

You think I'm not a goddess? Try me. This is a torch song. Touch me and you'll burn.

Anaesthesia, that's one technique: if it hurts, invent a different pain.

Don't let the bastards grind you down. I repeat this to myself but it conveys nothing. You might as well say, Don't let there be air; or Don't be. I suppose you could say that.

Like the trains, she's never on time and always departing.