The enemy was anyone who was someone he wanted to be or who had anything he wanted to have.

It's bad enough in life to do without something YOU want; but confound it, what gets my goat is not being able to give somebody something you want THEM to have.

The way his plump hand clutched at her hip seemed somehow improper; not morally, aesthetically.

What I do requires fantastic concentration... but you can't be totally alone, or you lose all contact with reality, so even when I'm engrossed and secluded, Jack Dunphy can be there. He's my oldest and best friend, and best critic too.

I've never had an affair with somebody who wasn't at the same time a very good friend of mine, if you see what I mean.

Poor slob without a name. It's a little inconvenient, his not having a name. But I haven't the right to give him one: he'll have to wait until he belongs to somebody. We just sort of took up by the river one day, we don't belong to each other: he's an independent, and so am I. I don't want to own anything until I know I've found the place where me and things belong together.

Dizzy with excitement is no mere phrase.