Being neurotic is like shooting fish in a barrel, and missing them.

The neurotic circles ceaselessly above a fogged-in airport.

Spring, summer, and fall fill us with hope; winter alone reminds us of the human condition.

The neurotic always wishes people would let him alone - until they do.

We sometimes feel that we have been really understood, but it was always long ago, by someone now dead.

The poor have the same basic pleasures as the rich, and the rich will always resent it.

Many of us go through life feeling as an actor might feel who does not like his part and does not believe in the play.