When You Talk Of Revolution

There Is A Stage In Any Misery When The Victim Begins To Find A Deep Satisfaction In It.

Only One Person In A Thousand Knows The Trick Of Really Living In The Present.

What I Do Not Know And Cannot Even Hope To Understand Before I Die Is Why Human Beings Are Willfully, Coldly, Matter-of-factly Cruel To Each Other ... What Nerve Has Atrophied In The Torturer, Or Worse Is Sensually Moved?

I Am Never Happier Than When I Am Alone In A Foreign City; It Is As If I Had Become Invisible.

The Critic's Hankering To Be Law-giver Rather Than Servant Of Literature Is Irrepressible.