The blind have no notion of time. The things of time are hidden from them too.

That passed the time. It would have passed in any case. Yes, but not so rapidly.

Yes, I dont know why, but I have never been disappointed, and I often was in the early days, without feeling at the same time, or a moment later, an undeniable relief.

We spend our life, it's ours, trying to bring together in the same instant a ray of sunshine and a free bench

Just under the surface I shall be, all together at first, then separate and drift, through all the earth and perhaps in the end through a cliff into the sea, something of me. A ton of worms in an acre, that is a wonderful thought, a ton of worms, I believe it.

There are two moments worthwhile in writing, the one when you start and the other when you throw it in the waste-paper basket.

The Tuesday scowls, the Wednesday growls, the Thursday curses, the Friday howls, the Saturday snores, the Sunday yawns, the Monday morns, the Monday morns. The whacks, the moans, the cracks, the groans, the welts, the squeaks, the belts, the shrieks, the pricks, the prayers, the kicks, the tears, the skelps, and the yelps.