Dignity: the doomed man's final refuge.

We live in an age of reproduction. Most of what makes up our personal picture of the world we have never seen with our own eyes--or rather, we've seen it with our own eyes, but not on the spot: our knowledge comes to us from a distance, we are televiewers, telehearers, teleknowers.

It is conceivable at least that a late generation, such as we presumably are, has particular need of the sketch, in order not to be strangled to death by inherited conceptions which preclude new births.... The sketch has direction, but no ending; the sketch as reflection of a view of life that is no longer conclusive, or is not yet conclusive.

Finished things cease to be a shelter for the spirit; but work in progress is a delight.

When you say a friend has a sense of humor do you mean that he makes you laugh, or that he can make you laugh?

All that remains is the mad desire for present identity through a woman.

It is only the consciousness of a nonexistence which allows us to realize for moments that we are living.