To be nothing - is that not, after all, the most satisfactory fact in the whole world?

I am obsessed at nights with the idea of my own worthlessness, and if it were only to turn a light on to save my life I think I would not do it. These are the last footprints of a headache I suppose. Do you ever feel that? - like an old weed in a stream. What do you feel, lying in bed?

Somewhere, everywhere, now hidden, now apparent in what ever is written down, is the form of a human being. If we seek to know him, are we idly occupied?

No, I'm not clever. I've always cared more for people than for ideas.

No passion is stronger in the breast of man than the desire to make others believe as he believes

If only she could put them together, she felt, write them out in some sentence, then she would have got at the truth of things.

I like people to be unhappy because I like them to have souls.