Ralph also took some classes in philosophy and literature and felt himself on the brink of some kind of huge discovery about himself. But it never came.

Woke up this morning with a terrific urge to lie in bed all day and read.

I am too nervous to eat pie.

I’d like to go out in the front yard and shout something. “None of this is worth it!” That’s what I’d like people to hear.

I think a little menace is fine to have in a story. For one thing, it's good for the circulation.

A man can go along obeying all the rules and then it don't matter a damn anymore.

I am a cigarette with a body attached to it