It is right that he too should have his little chronicle, his memories, his reason, and be able to recognize the good in the bad, the bad in the worst, and so grow gently old down all the unchanging days, and die one day like any other day, only shorter.

How hideous is the semicolon.

Watt had watched people smile and thought he understood how it was done.

I shall state silences more competently than ever a better man spangled the butterflies of vertigo.

Let us do something, while we have the chance! ... Let us make the most of it, before it is too late! Let us represent worthily for one the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us!

Was I asleep? Had I slept?

I say me, knowing all the while it's not me.