Fail, fail again, fail better.
But I know what darkness is, it accumulates, thickens, then suddenly bursts and drowns everything.
I shall state silences more competently than ever a better man spangled the butterflies of vertigo.
I have my faults, but changing my tune is not one of them.
There is no use indicting words, they are no shoddier than what they peddle.
Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.
Any fool can turn a blind eye but who knows what the ostrich sees in the sand.
My keepers, why keepers, I’m in no danger of stirring an inch, ah I see, it’s to make me think I’m a prisoner, frantic with corporeality, rearing to get out and away.
My mistakes are my life.
Don’t look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences.
That passed the time. It would have passed in any case. Yes, but not so rapidly.
What are we doing here, that is the question.
Humbly to ask a favour of people who are on the point of knocking your brains out sometimes produces good results.
Watt had watched people smile and thought he understood how it was done.
It was the only way to progress, to stop.
The only thing you must never speak of is your happiness.
You’re on earth. There’s no cure for that.
What kind of country is this where a woman can’t weep her heart out on the highways and byways without being tormented by retired bill-brokers!
We could have saved sixpence. We could have saved fivepence. But at what cost?
What is that unforgettable line?