Nothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that. Yes, yes, it's the most comical thing in the world.

My dear Tom, Delighted to get your letter. Do write again. This life is terrible and I don't understand how it can be endured.

I use the words you taught me. If they don't mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.

I had seen faces in photographs I might have found beautiful had I known even vaguely in what beauty was supposed to consist. And my father's face, on his death-bolster, had seemed to hint at some form of aesthetics relevant to man. But the faces of the living, all grimace and flush, can they be described as objects?

The end of a life is always vivifying.

Name, no, nothing is nameable, tell, no, nothing can be told, what then, I don't know, I shouldn't have begun.

Normally I didn’t see a great deal. I didn’t hear a great deal either. I didn’t pay attention. Strictly speaking I wasn’t there. Strictly speaking I believe I’ve never been anywhere.