Looking backward at what has been lost, I feel sad, then indifferent, and at last relieved.

Never trust the judgment of an enthusiastic man; never trust the promises of a lazy one.

Unlike the ambiguity of life, the ambiguity of language does reach a limit.

The psychiatrist's office: the only place I can be sure my story will be treated as sad, but interesting.

The only peace is being out of earshot.

The idealist regards facts as provisional.

If we think about the obvious long enough, it dissolves.