Music is like a dream. One that I cannot hear.

Writers are really people who write books not because they are poor$$$ but because they are dissatisfied with the books which they could buy but do not like.

I don't like animals. It's a strange thing$$$ I don't like men and I don't like animals. As for God$$$ he is beginning to disgust me.

Nothing is funnier than unhappiness.

To find a form that accommodates the mess$$$ that is the task of the artist now.

We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. But habit is a great deadener.

Maybe we should always assume the worst.

Brains are the only things worth having in this world$$$ no matter whether one is a crow or a man.

That's how it is on this bitch of an earth.

One can be ugly in looks$$$ but lovely in disposition.