I am not, and never was, and never could have been, a brutal scoundrel.

I have the European urge to use my feet when a drive can be dispensed with.

It was an interesting thing to do. Why did I write any of my books, after all? For the sake of the pleasure, for the sake of the difficulty. I have no social purpose, no moral message; I've no general ideas to exploit, I just like composing riddles with elegant solutions.

Those Eggheadsareterrible Philistines. A realgood head is not oval but round.

If he was silent I could be silent too. Indeed, I could very well do with a little rest in this subdued, frightened-to-death rocking chair, before I drove to wherever the beast's lair was - and then pulled the pistol's foreskin back, and then enjoyed the orgasm of the crushed trigger.

Complacency is a state of mind that exists only in retrospective: it has to be shattered before being ascertained.

I think it is all a matter of love: the more you love a memory, the stronger and stranger it is.