My Carmen," I said (I used to call her that sometimes) "we shall leave this raw sore town as soon as you get out of bed." "... Because, really," I continued, "there is no point in staying here." "There is no point in staying anywhere," said Lolita.

My principal failing as a writer is the lack of spontaneity; the nuisance of parallel thoughts, second thoughts, third thoughts; inability to express myself properly in any language unless I compose every damned sentence in my bath, in my mind, at my desk.

Nymphets do not occur in polar regions.

A writer should have the precision of a poet and the imagination of a scientist.

A toothache will cost a battle, a drizzle cancel an insurrection.

...All my best words are deserters and do not answer the trumpet call, and the remainder are cripples.

What surprises you in life? The marvel of consciousness -- that sudden window swinging open on a sunlit landscape amidts the night of non-being.