In California everyone goes to a therapist, is a therapist, or is a therapist going to a therapist.

It's a scientific fact that if you stay in California you lose one point of your IQ every year.

Reading dreams. That's what started her walking down the road. Every day she'd walk a little further: a mile, and come home. Two miles, and come home. One day she just kept on.

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

What I found does the most good is just to get into a taxi and go to Tiffany's. It calms me down right away, the quietness and the proud look of it;nothing very bad could happen to you there.

He’d always been willing to confess his faults, for, by admitting them, it was as if he made them no longer exist.

I'm sure Proust was a big bore.