The conversation seemed just as boring and forgettable as details of American history around 1805, for example.

I have no television - I hate it.

I can't write if someone else is in the house, not even the cleaning woman.

What was it to love someone, what was love exactly, and why did it end or not end? Those were the real questions, and who could answer them?

He loved possessions, not masses of them, but a select few that he did not part with.They gave a man self-respect. Not ostentation but quality, and the love that cherished the quality. Possessions reminded him that he existed, and made him enjoy his existence. It was as simple as that. And wasn' t that worth something? He existed.

Life is a long failure of understanding ... a long, mistaken shutting of the heart.

The night was a time for bestial affinities, for drawing closer to oneself.