Her words showered down upon us like little glass pellets.

The lawns looked artificial, like green excelsior or packing material.

We do not remember days; we remember moments.

Unless you made your life a turning point, there was no reason for existing.

A novel is balanced between a few true impressions and the multitude of false ones that make up most of what we call life.Â

Psychoanalysis pretends to investigate the Unconscious. The Unconscious by definition is what you are not conscious of. But the Analysts already know what's in it. They should, because they put it all in beforehand. It's like an Easter Egg hunt.

Summer afternoon, summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language

I think New York is not the cultural center of America, but the business and administrative center of American culture.

Boredom is the conviction that you can't change. The shriek of unused capacities.

Boredom is the conviction that you can't change'the shriek of unused capacities.